A Sermon by the Rev. Elice Higginbotham
For the First Congregational United Church of Christ, Chappaqua, New York
I hope you'll forgive a really, really silly story about a simple, pious Christian man who had a life-changing vision. I've heard or seen this story in a number of places, with a number of little variations in detail, but this version is the one I actually heard first as preached by the Rev. Waldo Richards, who was pastor of my home church in Phoenix, Arizona, during my childhood. You'll probably see why it's one of those things that I remember from my childhood, all these years later in advanced middle age. When you sit through sermons as a child, what you tend to remember of them is either the really scary or the really silly - and I didn't grow up in a church that preached scary. So... simple, pious Christian with his vision. (If you've heard this before, don't stop me, I'm going to tell it anyway...)
This particular simple, pious Christian man was a rural farmer, walking patiently behind his horse, plowing his cornfield. (Do you catch a whiff of stereotype here? Well, yes, it's probably intentional.) The man's diligently doing his day's work, just like he always does, when suddenly he is stopped in mid-step by a glorious vision in the heavens! He looks up, over his cornfield and there, sparkling in the sky above his head stand two mysterious, glowing letters: "PC." (No, these did NOT stand for "politically correct." This is a story I first heard in the '50's, and it was an old chestnut then!) "PC" - a miraculous vision, stopped the man cold, and left him wondering what such a sudden and mysterious expression from beyond might mean. The pious man drops to his knees right there in the cornfield, and after several moments of fervent prayer, he realizes that there was only one possible meaning for this amazing sign: "Preach Christ." What else was a good Christian farmer to conclude?
So the man ceased his plowing, went straight home to the farmhouse, told his wife, "Honey, I've got the Call!" She said, "Oh my goodness, better go talk with the preacher." So he went straight to the pastor of his Little Brown Church in the Vale and said, "Rev, I've got the Call!" And the pastor said that well, of course, if he'd got the Call, he'd better get himself properly educated in order to serve the church. So the man mortgaged the farm, packed up the wife and kids, and they all moved to the city so he could go to seminary.
And there he began to run into trouble. He was a faithful, prayerful man, but he was just no student. He stayed up half the night studying, but he could barely scratch up passing grades in his classes. His academic advisor called him in and said, "Son, I can see that you're dedicated, but this academic stuff just doesn't seem to be for you. Why are you putting yourself through this?" And the man replied, "Because I saw a vision. I got the Call. The Lord told me to preach Christ, and here I am. I gotta do it." So the academic advisor said, "Well, I can see you're motivated. Why don't you take an internship for a year, and get away from all these books and papers and exams for a while. Take a student parish, get some practical experience, and then come back and we'll see if maybe things don't go a little easier for you in seminary."
Well, it seemed like a good idea, so the man leaned on his denomination, and they found him a student parish, with a little stipend, and a little parsonage for the family, and the man set to work. And, unfortunately, things didn't go much better than they had in seminary. The man worked hard, but he just wasn't making it. He faithfully called on his parishioners, but he had no relational skills. He agonized over his sermons, but they were boring, and his congregation fell asleep. He passionately exhorted his members to good stewardship, but the offering plates seemed to get lighter by the week. Finally his denominational supervisor called him in and said, "You know, son, nobody can say a word about your dedication, but it looks like the ministry just isn't for you. What were you doing before you decided to study theology?"
"I was a farmer."
"Were you a good one?"
"I was. I harvested a bumper crop every year."
"Did you enjoy farming?"
"I did. It was a great life."
"Well, then, whatever possessed you to leave what you were good at, and enjoying, and try to go to seminary and study for the ministry?"
"I got the Call. God called me. I couldn't turn away. I saw a vision, and I knew I had to follow."
The supervisor, who was a wise and experienced person, said, "Tell me about your vision."
"I was right in my cornfield, plowing away, and there it was, in the sky right over my head. It was God's call."
"What was right over your head."
" 'PC.' The letters 'PC.' You know: 'Preach Christ.' I'm a faithful believer. What else could I do?" The poor man was practically in tears.
The supervisor sat back, and nodded, and thought for a while in silence. Finally he sat up, looked the wretched student straight in the eye and said kindly, "Did it ever occur to you that maybe 'PC' stood for "Plow Corn'?" (I warned you that it was a silly story....)
But it was about commitment, passion and vision. The biblical lessons that are given to us for this morning are about commitment, passion and vision.
This is the day in the traditional liturgical calendar which is customarily observed as the day of the Baptism of Jesus. The lesson from Acts we heard a moment ago is the prelude to a baptism, what turns out to be a fateful one, sort of a turning point in the early Christian church. The Gospel lesson, which we didn't read today, is Matthew's version of Jesus' baptism. If you want to go back and read it after church, it's found in Matthew 3:13-17. We used a piece of the third lesson for this Sunday of Christ's Baptism, from the prophet Isaiah, in our Call to Worship.
As I was thinking about preaching this morning, something that stood out for me is that all of these lessons contain, or relate, to visions. If you go back and look at our Call to Worship in the bulletin, you'll get a sense of the prophet Isaiah's vision of the life to which God calls God's people:
I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations,
to open eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.
When God says, through the prophet's words, I have given you... -- that you is us. Isaiah preached God's vision for people as light, as liberators, as hope-givers.
If you go back and read any of the brief narratives of Jesus' baptism in Matthew, Mark or Luke, you'll find some differences in certain details, because each of the recorders had a certain audience in mind, with a certain point to make with that audience. But each of the stories speaks about the opening of the heavens, and the spirit of God descending upon Jesus I the form of a dove, and God's voice identifying Jesus as God's own son, or spokesperson, or representative. For the hearers of these narratives in the first century, that was a very specific and meaningful vision. Remember, that was still the era of the sort layered universe: there was the earth, upon which we and the animals lived and in which plants grew; and then there was the air, where the birds flew, and in which the sun and moon and stars were hung, and which was covered by the solid dome of the sky, which separated the earth firmly from what was above and beyond it; and finally, above the sky, were the heavens, the realm of God, or whatever other spiritual beings one might believe existed in that otherworldly, supernatural realm. This was the very normal, commonly understood way the universe was thought to exist. So, for the heavens to "open," for the dove to descend from that heavenly realm to touch Jesus, sitting in the river on the bottom layer - well, for readers or hearers of that time, this meant that the barrier that existed between God's realm and ours was broken. God had moved beyond God's normal, sort of distant, spiritual, unreachable territory, and become a part of ours. This experience of Jesus' baptism, or the way the Gospel-recorders told the story, represents a life-changing, world-changing vision.
Peter had a vision, and that motivated his speech that constitutes our lesson from Acts, explaining why he had come to a foreigner's home to do something completely unexpected and rather inappropriate by the standards of the earliest Christian community. He had come to baptize. He had been summoned to a Roman's household -- not only a non-Jew, but someone perceived by Jews as the enemy. In his speech before Jewish and Gentile believers together, Peter very succinctly summarize the Gospel, concluding: [Jesus] commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes I him receives forgiveness of sins through his name. Peter makes the Gospel not a fulfillment of Jewish national aspirations, but the source of grace and hope for all people. Peter preaches the inclusive Gospel. And it leads to a new, different Christian community, and to a changed world and understanding of the church that is our own heritage.
How did Peter take this enormous leap of faith? He had a vision. In the verses that precede our lesson for this morning, Peter also sees the heavens opening - the barrier between God's realm and ours breached - and a heavenly voice commanding him do something that no pious Jew would ever consider: that is, to eat ritually forbidden food. And immediately upon that vision, follows the invitation for Peter to preach the Gospel to, and baptize, Gentiles. "The Holy Spirit made me do it."
Going into and out of the water - which is what happens at baptism -- is more than just a symbol of cleansing. It's a symbol of resurrection. It's a symbol of leaving an old, earthbound life, with earthbound and self-centered values, and entering into a new community. Baptism represents a vision of a new person, and a new world.
Peter took a courageous and dramatic step on the basis of a vision. He heard God's call, and had to do something with it. So how about us? What vision will we see, what voice will we hear, that will nudge us to step outside the safe and respectable, into the challenging and life-changing? What vision pushes First Congregational Church, as the Holy Spirit pushed Peter, to reach out impartially (that's Peter's word) to all God's children? What vision will empower us to claim what it is that we believe, and will motivate us to share it, because nothing else is so important.
The man who was such a good farmer and such a lousy preacher had a vision. I'd like to suggest that he brought his own prejudices and presuppositions to that vision. He somehow believed that "preaching Christ" could only by done by professional ministers, standing in pulpits, interpreting the scriptures and performing the sacraments. It didn't occur to him that his vision was pointing him toward doing what he already knew how to do, but to do it in way that changed his world. Perhaps he went back to the farm, and donated his bumper crops to a food bank. That would have been good for his conscience, but would it have changed his world? Suppose he used the income from his bumper crops to invest in a rural credit union, that made it possible for his less-productive neighbors to get the credit to experiment with new crops and methods. Perhaps he volunteered to go abroad with his mission board, to teach modern agricultural methods to farmers in third world countries. Perhaps he came home with new ideas about terracing and organic farming, and discovered that he had received more from those he'd started out to help, than he'd given.
So, friends in faith, on this Sunday of the Baptism of Christ, after the Christmas greens are taken down and the candles put away; after the old, beloved stories are read once more and then saved for next year, let us begin to face the work to which Jesus' presence call us. What vision will come to us in this year of transition, and bring us from death to new life?
Amen
