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Sermon December 7, 2008 Let us pray. Recently, I was talking with someone about the state of the world and life. We eventually got around to talking about faith and the church. My partner in conversation -- whose thoughts I respect very much, said, “do you think the reduced role and importance of the church and faith in the world is because they are not relevant?” I was startled at the time by the comment and it has stayed with me. Now I suspect some in my profession might answer that question by saying that the church and faith are not supposed to be relevant and cannot be judged by that standard. There is an element of truth in that proposition because it would be a mistake to judge the importance of faith by the standards of a business. How does one measure the importance of the church to those who are suffering or in need of a loving friend and a supportive community? Mere numbers do not measure a church. Moreover, because the church not only comforts the afflicted but also afflicts or at least ought to unsettle the comfortable – we should probably not measure relevance by attendance or contributions. But personally I think to ignore or to skirt the question of relevance is a cop-out. It is a fair question. If the “good news” isn’t relevant than we have no business being here. Webster’s Dictionary tells us that to be relevant “means to bear on the matter at hand.”[1] We must ask ourselves: “Are faith (and the church) pertinent to our lives?” In answering that question I want to focus on the symbol of our faith – the Cross. Now you may be saying “that’s a funny starting point in Advent – it would be understandable in Lent as we await Easter -- but now we are looking forward to Christmas and the birth of Jesus.” First of all the birth of the babe in Bethlehem would not still be remembered today without Easter. The critical elements of our faith (Christmas and Easter) are interconnect -- much as are the branches of the wreaths we display at this time of year. And so what we await– what we celebrate -- is the birth of a child who grows up to change history in life, in death and in life after death. But the real reason I focus on the Cross is because I believe it graphically highlights what faith involves. There are over 30 crosses in this sanctuary in addition to the beautiful one over the altar. (Just ask a recent confirmand to point them out). Take a look at one. What do you see? You see two axes -- a horizontal one and vertical one. This shape symbolizes the heart of our faith. First and central is the vertical axis – that is the love of God. Faith centers on our love of God but no less on God’s gracious, merciful and never-ending love of us. But then we have the horizontal axis too. That reflects that at the core of our faith is also our love of our neighbors. Again it is a two way street. Faithful folk love their neighbors but are also loved by their neighbors. Both axes reflect that fundamentally our faith is about being in loving relationship -- on the one hand with God and on the other with our neighbors. But what does that have to do with the pertinence or relevance of faith? One way to gauge the relevance of the church and faith is to think about what the world would look like without them. No one would question that the horizontal axis -- love of and concern for others -- is of profound importance and relevance in our world. When we celebrate what we share while appreciating our differences – we treat others as lovely and valuable people. It is hard to imagine anything more relevant or critical to living our lives to the fullest. Without that horizontal axis -- life would be as the philosopher Hobbs famously said, “nasty, brutish and short.” But to love our neighbors doesn’t require faith. One can be a good and moral person helping the disadvantaged, lifting up the poor and the oppressed without faith. And, indeed, there are many such “good” people – we all know some. But in fact that horizontal beam loses its strength and resilience (especially in times of crises) without the critical support of the central axis of a relationship with God. Without it the horizontal axis is simply floating in air. It is like a sandcastle after it has dried -- ready to fall away at the first touch of hand, a gust of wind or a strong wave. Several years ago some of you read with me the book, Shantung Compound written by the theologian Langdon Gilkey. For those of you unfamiliar with the book, it is the story of the efforts of a group of three thousand strangers, including Gilkey and many other so-called “good” people, thrown together in an internment camp. They had to build a society from scratch while being closely guarded by their overseers. It is a fascinating book as the internees struggle often unsuccessfully to maintain the horizontal axis -- the love of one’s neighbors. Gilkey, writing years later, concluded that to be able to truly love another (especially when one’s own security is at issue) occurs when the center of security and meaning lies not in one’s own life but in the power and love of God.[2] In other words the horizontal axis does not hold up without that center axis. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Lutheran pastor, reached the same conclusion while imprisoned by the Nazi’s for attempting to topple that regime. Before being put to death he labored to make sense of how a sophisticated and very modern society like Germany could have allowed the holocaust. He concluded it wasn’t enough to be good person – a person of conscience, a person of responsibility, a person of reason alone. No, what allowed people to truly love their neighbors in the time of crisis -- that was Germany in the 30s -- was principal allegiance and love of God. In Bonhoeffer’s words, the one who stands fast against the destructive forces of one’s times – who truly loves one’s neighbor -- is the one who tries to make his [or her] whole life “an answer to the … call of God.”[3] Years from now history will attempt to figure out how we got into the mess we are in now. I suspect the causes identified will be many -- ranging from ineffective regulation, to greed, to a misguided positive desire to open up home ownership to those who sadly could not afford it, to an under appreciation of the risks created by our own very clever creation of new securities. I wonder whether in that exercise anyone will ask whether relegating a transcendent source of meaning to the periphery of life was a factor. What do you think? The journalist and war correspondent of the last century, Quentin Reynolds, once said, “If I were a dictator the first book I would burn would be the Bible.”[4] And in point of fact the first thing dictators and oppressive regimes try to do is to stamp out or co-opt the existing communities of faith. It seems to me that too is a sign of the pertinence – the relevance of faith – in our world. In my conversation with people this week about the relevance of faith and the church -- again and again they talked about how their faith and their church have gotten them over major difficulties in their lives. And I think they are referring to the power of both axes – the love of God for them and the love of their neighbors. Certainly, the support and love of friends goes a long way to helping us in times of crisis. But love of God is also important. Some years ago I knew someone – who was considered by most to be extremely successful in his personal and professional life. But inside this man was beset by demons of inadequacy and a paralyzing ambivalence about how to use his life. Eventually in a time of extreme stress, he fell into a black hole of depression -- a hole that seemed endlessly deep with no handholds to get out. With wonderful professional help, the support of family and friends and understanding colleagues he recovered. Sometime later we talked and I commented on the support he had received and how important it must have been. He readily acknowledged that. He also said, "but at the darkness point what allowed me to hang on was that I truly felt that no matter how unworthy I was that God loved me. That sustained me.” The church at its best is that place where these two axes come together. The church requires both. It is not enough simply to have the vertical axis. To love God and to be loved by God are wonderful. But that alone is not the church. A church requires as well a community of others who care for each other. And in the same way it is not enough simply to have a community of good people who care for each other and join in good fellowship. That is a wonderful part of life but it is not a church. We are the church when we have both. And we are relevant as a church when we have both. I visited the Lehman Collection at the Metropolitan Museum this week. It is an amazing collage of medieval art much of which has a religious theme. There were many crosses in the collection, including Celtic, Maltese, Latin, Greek and many other types. The shapes like those on the doors to this sanctuary are wonderfully varied. They remind us that a church like the symbol of the Cross comes in many shapes and sizes. Sometimes the two axes are long and sometime short. Sometime the horizontal is short and the vertical long (like the one over our altar) or vice versa. But each always has both axes. Indeed, our shape as a church may vary from time to time. But so long as we embody both axes – that is we reflect the intersection of the love God and of our neighbor – our pertinence and relevance will not be in doubt. X X X What does this have to do with Advent? What happened in Bethlehem was the embodiment of the Cross -- of that intersection of the love of God and the love of humanity. The birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ – they are the essence of our faith. It is that inestimable gift -- not simply of the manger but of the Cross -- which we await yet again in this Advent season. But as Isaiah suggests Advent is really not about waiting. It is about preparing a way in the wilderness for God. Perhaps, like me you initially think of this as a highway by which God comes to us. But in fact I think it a highway that we make so that we can journey to God. Like the shepherds abiding in the fields and the wise men following the star, we are to find our way to Bethlehem. God has reached out into history in the form of the gift of this man of Nazareth. The challenge is not for God to find us but for us to find God. Faith is relevant when we live it. When we were are inspired to let both axes into our life. It is important to love one’s neighbor full stop. But it is even more transforming of us and of those we love when that love is supported by our love of God and our acceptance of God’s love of us. The “Good news” is relevant news when we actively live it and pass it on. That means accepting living out both axes of the Cross. Amen [1] Webster’s Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary (Springfield: GF>C> Merriam Company, 1967) p. 723 [2] Langdon Gilkey, Shantung Compound (New York: Harper & Row, 1966) p. 235 [3] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1967) p. 4 [4] Quoted in Halford Luccock, A Sprig of Holly (New York: The Pilgrim Press, 1992) p. 44 |
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