Sermon ~ 02/27/2011 ~ The Lilies of the Field

02/27/2011 ~ Eighth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Eight Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Proper 3 ~ Isaiah 49:8-16a; Psalm 131; 1 Corinthians 4:1-5; Matthew 6:24-34.

The Lilies of the Field

“...why be anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow— learn a lesson from the way the wild-flowers grow; they neither work nor do they spin.” — Matthew 6:28.

I am currently serving on an ad hoc committee of the New York Conference of the United Church of Christ. A little more than a week ago that group, a committee with people from all over the state, upstate and down, met in Binghamton. In this particular session we were involved in a workshop facilitated by Bill Green, a U.C.C. pastor and a consultant.

I am sure more than one of you has been in this kind of corporate, focus group. I don’t want to delve deeply into the background of the work the committee is doing, something which would probably be way too boring, but in this particular exercise Bill was trying to empower the group by helping us to get to some basic understandings.

The session was maybe a half hour old when this question was posed (slight pause): ‘what does being empty feel like?’— what does being empty feel like? As will happen at these kinds of workshops, after a little bit of time, the group had drifted a considerable distance off topic. I noticed that drift.

So, I raised my hand, was recognized and said: “I’d like us to come back to this topic of ‘what does being empty feel like?’ In order to do that, I want to ask a question: ‘Is anyone here, besides me, a Vietnam veteran?’”

Based on the ages of the majority of people in the room, I knew most of them had lived through the era. But when I asked that question about being a Vietnam veteran people’s eyes started to dart back and forth to and fro.

One person looked to the next person who looked to the next person to see if anyone else responded in the positive. Finally, the person sitting on my left said, “I was in the service in the Vietnam era.”

“No,” I said. “That’s not what I mean. Was anyone else in this room there, in Vietnam, in country?” The silence was deafening.

“Well,” I said, “one thing I learned from my experience in Vietnam is something about what it feels like to be empty. Let me put what it feels like to be empty this way: you feel like got nothing to lose.” There was a still longer silence.

Finally, the fellow to my right said, “Nothing to lose— if you have nothing to lose, doesn’t that lead to despair?”

“No,” I said. “It doesn’t lead to despair at all. When you learn what true emptiness is, you learn that every day is precious. You learn that every day you get up and live it to the fullest. You put one foot in front of the other and you move forward doing whatever it is that absolutely necessary, that absolutely has to get done.”

“It is only when you stop doing, stop moving that despair has set in. And the reason you move forward day after day after day after day after day is that every day you come face to face with your own mortality.” (Slight pause.)

At that point Ann Kansfield, the United Church of Christ pastor at the Greenpoint Reformed Church in Brooklyn, New York, said: “Yes. And when you come face to face with your own mortality you learn about hope and you start to practice hope every day. I learned that on 9/11.” (Slight pause.)

I met Ann at the Annual meeting of the New York Conference last year. Before becoming a pastor, Ann, now a woman in her late 30s, worked in the financial services industry. She was working in the World Trade Center on 9/11. After that experience, she decided she needed to go to Seminary. She decided she needed to become a pastor. After that day, she knew she had learned something about hope. (Slight pause.)

And these words are from the work commonly referred to as Matthew: “...why be anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow— learn a lesson from the way the wild-flowers grow; they neither work nor do they spin.” (Slight pause.)

If there is anything this passage is not about, it is not about the idea that everything will be all right in the sweet by and by— don’t worry be happy. Including those on the planes, some 2,700 people died in New York City on 9/11. Some 59,000 are counted as killed or missing in Vietnam. Survival in dangerous situations does not blossom out of a ‘don’t worry be happy’ kind of sentiment.

But, if there is anything which should be obvious about the lilies of the field, it is that they live through the cycle of life. And that cycle ends. On the other hand, the words in this passage claim there is an epiphany, a manifestation of the work of God in the lilies, despite the fact that they are finite. In short, God matters in day-to-day living.

As I see it, this passage is, hence, a call to trust God. This is about what life is like when we give our life to God. More to the point, this is a call to trust not that God will make all things right, but that in the reign of God— a reign in which we are invited to participate— in the reign of God, conventional social practice is obsolete.

And, indeed, what is it which conventional social practice dictates? Conventional social practice dictates that we constantly worry about tomorrow. (Slight pause.)

To be clear: some might dismiss the words of Jesus as relevant only to the uncomplicated life of the First Century— a wild assumption that life in the First Century was uncomplicated. Therefore, because they are relevant only in the First Century, we moderns need to think about the future.

We need to prepare our children, prepare for illness, prepare for retirement. But if you think these words deny that kind of preparation— say that you shouldn’t prepare— you are misreading them. And you are misreading them in a way which is exactly the same as those who might think this is a reference to the sweet by and by— don’t worry be happy. [1] Neither stand is true.

For me, the text points out the human dilemma: the existence we know is a mortal existence— finite. Indeed, by asking us to consider what true mortality is and means, by asking us to consider the lilies of the field, we can come to realize God invites us to the realm of God, the reign of God. God invites us to know we are mortal. And God invites us to be comfortable with that. (Slight pause.)

As I have said here before, a prime proclamation of Jesus is that the dominion of God draws near. But that proclamation finds its totality and the fullness of its promise in the resurrection. Paradoxically, it is the resurrection which most vividly tells us we are mortal, vividly tells us the existence we now know is finite.

And here is yet another paradox: because we are mortal God invites us to be participants in the reign of God which draws near. (Slight pause.) The way I see it, this reading, this slice of The Sermon on the Mount, reminds us all of three things: the dominion of God draws near; we are mortal; we are invited by God to be participants. (Slight pause.)

So, let us understand that (quote:) “Tomorrow will take care of itself for it will bring worries of its own.” And let us understand, therefore, that we need to (quote): “Seek first the reign of God and the justice of God...”

Why? Day by day by day by day by day the hope of God lives in us when we remember who we are and who God invites us to be. God invites us to be the people of God doing the work of God and the will of God. If we remember who we are, it is only then that the promise of the resurrection can become real, can become tangible. Amen.

ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “Alcoholics Anonymous has that famous saying: ‘one day at a time.’ Many people take it to be remaining sober one day at a time and sometimes remaining sober one day at a time will be a struggle. I have always also taken it to mean every day is a reminder of our own mortality, and, indeed, some days it is a struggle.”

[1] Some of this analysis stems from the commentary for this Sunday in Texts for Preaching, CD-ROM Edition, A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV Years A, B, and C; Walter Brueggemann, Charles B. Cousar, Beverly Roberts Gaventa, J. Clinton McCann, and James D. Newsome Jr.

SERMON ~ 02/20/2011 ~ PERFECTION

02/20/2011 ~ Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Proper 2 ~ Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18; Psalm 119:33-40; 1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23; Matthew 5:38-48.

Perfection

“Therefore, be perfect as Abba, God, in heaven is perfect.” — Matthew 5:48.


An article in The New York Times on Thursday marveled that an author dead nearly 400 years had so many plays in the process of being presented in the Big Apple. Needless to say, that author was William Shakespeare.

The article stated this was the last weekend to see a production of The Merchant of Venice starring Academy Award winner Al Pacino in one of Shakespeare’s greatest roles, Shylock, the moneylender. But not to worry, if you missed it. Even though this production was closing Sunday, next weekend F. Murray Abraham, also an Oscar winner, will open in the very same role in an entirely separate, different production.

By the time mid-March rolls around, two productions of Macbeth will be gracing the boards in the city. As if that were not enough of the Bard, the rarely produced Timon of Athens is also on tap in the next several weeks.

As You Like It is running currently. And, shortly, the non-profit troupe known as “The Red Bull” will do Henry VI and Richard III one after another in an effort to follow the progress of Margaret of Anjou, a character in both those plays, as she moves through them.

Just to round out the picture, before the end of July New York stages will see The Comedy of Errors, King Lear, All’s Well That Ends Well and Measure for Measure on top of what’s already been mentioned. Why is all this Shakespeare getting produced? Well, a director of one of these productions puts it this way: “You know the writer isn’t going to let you down and that audiences will always come out for good Shakespeare.” [1] (Slight pause.)

I think there are two reasons the plays of Shakespeare get produced over and over and over. One is: the genius of Shakespeare was to write about people, about relationships. Hence, it is timeless. A second and related reason is, because he wrote about people and relationships, the writing seems to live, to breathe, to adapt and to be adaptable, no matter the era.

Indeed, I have seen productions of Shakespeare set in its native Elizabethan time frame. I have seen a play of Shakespeare performed as if the characters were living in the 1890s in America. I have seen a play set in the 1930s, in the Italy of Benito Mussolini. I have seen a play performed as if it took place in modern day Scandinavia.

I have see Shakespeare done without any set at all. I have seen it done with the most elaborate, realistic set imaginable. Many moons ago I saw A Midsummer Night’s Dream directed by Peter Brook, staged within a surrealistic set, simply a blank white box, a production so amazing it is still referenced and talked about as a landmark production by theater professionals.

I, myself, wrote a musical version of Much Ado About Nothing— the Beatrice-Benedict play with my friend and collaborator, David Schaefer, a show, which with great good perversity, we called All’s Well That End’s Well (as opposed to Much Ado About Nothing, you see). Now, after I did that, another friend suggested to me I had done what every writer must dream of doing: re-writing Shakespeare.

“No,” I told him. “You can’t re-write perfection. Shakespeare is the master. You can, however, collaborate, have a relationship with the play as it comes to life off the printed page and, thereby, with the Bard.”

Indeed, maybe that’s why Shakespeare is done so often in so may ways. Theater professionals think of Shakespeare as perfection, because the writing is about real people. Because the writing is about real people, it has this amazing ability to adapt and to be adaptable, to change— even though a word is never changed. (Slight pause.)

And these words are from the Gospel know as Matthew: “Therefore, be perfect as Abba, God, in heaven is perfect.” (Slight pause.)

As was stated when the reading from Leviticus was heard: the so called Ten Commandments pop up here and there in Hebrew Scriptures. Many, many people take these to be a set of rules. Nothing could be further from reality. These are not a set of rules. [2]

No matter which version of the Ten Commandments we look at— and there are several in the Hebrew Scriptures— they can be broken down into two sections: relationship with God and relationship with neighbor, relationship with each other. That is what the Ten Commandments are about, not about rules. This is about relationship.

Indeed, as was also stated earlier, this should be evident even to the casual listener: Who is speaking when these words are recited is by far the most important aspect of the passage. It is absolutely clear: God is speaking.

The same thing can be said about the Gospel reading— the context clearly points to God. Yes, that Gospel reading lifts up demands that are serious, radical and costly. They require “unnatural responses,” responses that are not “business as usual,” at least not business as usual according to the ways of the world.

These words invite the community to reflect on, to imagine, and to devise measures of loving neighbor that go beyond typical human response and thereby reflect the character of God. This is life re-discerned in covenantal categories. To reorder life in this way requires of us a deployment of energy— our energy— and resources— every fibre of our being— in ways that our society does not usually celebrate or appreciate. (Slight pause.)

Coming back to the Hebrew Scriptures reading, if we look carefully it, the very utterance of the name of God identifies Yahweh as the guarantor of life and well-being for the vulnerable and the disabled. Further, the laws concerning one’s neighbor are repeatedly grounded in the assertion that Yahweh is holy. Thus, these words link the reality of neighbor to the reality of God.

Holiness in heaven is enacted as justice on earth. Israel has no viable way to be holy except in and through transformed social relations. Hence, the invitation placed before us by God says the holiness to which God calls us is enacted with one’s neighbor.

And, indeed, this is also true with the Gospel reading. A central proclamation of Jesus is that the reign of God draws near. Jesus then says Abba, God is perfect. This perfection— teleios in the Greek— has to do with wholeness and authenticity of relationships, genuine relationships made manifest because the reign of God is near.

Jesus lays out ways of relating which, in terms of behavior show themselves in extravagant moves toward reconciliation, moves toward simple truth telling, moves toward outrageous expressions of generosity, moves toward the distinctive care of one’s foes— all these essential to the reign of God. The pointedness of the rhetoric is meant to jolt the imagination to project a sense of duty to this (quote): “perfect” (unquote) perfect God. [3] (Slight pause.)

We live in a world that doubts perfection is possible. So, as a writer, as a theater person, why would I say Shakespeare is perfect? Because Shakespeare writes about relationship, thereby inviting collaboration. And, because Shakespeare writes about relationships, the possibility of change is not just a given. It is an invitation toward perfection. (Slight pause.)

As a theologian why would I second what Jesus has to say: Abba, God, is perfect? Because God invites relationships. God invites collaboration. God invites change. Thereby, God invites us to strive toward perfection.

As I said, we live in a world which doubts perfection is possible. But that’s because we live in a world which sees perfection as static, frozen. Relationships cannot be frozen. Relationships demand flexibility.

All of which begs the question: are we willing to be as flexible as God? Are we willing to pursue the ways of God? Are we willing to change? Are we willing to strive toward the kind of perfection God invites: the constantly changing perfection known as relationship? Amen.

02/20/2011
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, NY

ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “The Constitution of the United States starts with these strange words: (quote): ‘We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union...’— a more perfect union. If it was perfect, how could it get to be more perfect? Were the people who wrote this stupid, or did they have a deep understanding that governing ourselves, something no other nation had ever tried to do, needed to be flexible, needed to be about relationship and, thereby, needed to change. You tell me.”

[1] NY Times ~ 02/17/2011 ~ All of New York Is Shakespeare’s Stage ~ by Patrick Healy ~ http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/18/theater/18shakespeare.html?hpw

[2] “...was also stated earlier...”— a reference to the introduction offered by the liturgist when the passage was read.

[3] Texts for Preaching, CD-ROM Edition ~ A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV—Years A, B, and C ~ Walter Brueggemann, Charles B. Cousar, Beverly Roberts Gaventa, J. Clinton McCann, and James D. Newsome Jr. ~ found in the commentary for this reading.

SERMON ~ 02/13/2011 ~ God’s Servants

02/13/2011 ~ Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany ~ Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Proper 1 ~ Deuteronomy 30:15-20 or Sirach 15:15-20 ; Psalm 119:1-8; 1 Corinthians 3:1-9; Matthew 5:21-37.

God’s Servants

“For we are God’s servants, working together; you are God’s field, God’s building.” — 1 Corinthians 3:9.

Many of you know that, as these things go, Bonnie and I got married late in life. I was 40. She was 39. It was the first marriage for both of us. You’ve probably heard me say that a dozen times.

Bonnie, of course, lived in Brunswick, Maine and I lived in New York City. We lived not just states apart. We lived worlds apart.

Whereas my motto had been, “If the Subway doesn’t go there, it’s too far”— I did not learn to drive until after I moved to Maine— if we were getting married, it was unlikely Bonnie would be comfortable with big city life. Yes, it was country mouse, city mouse, wasn’t it?

We got married in September but it was right around this time of year we decided we’d make that commitment. I was attending an Episcopal Church in New York City at the time and I remember when, in the course of the service, the request for joys and concerns for which to pray was made. I stood up and announced we would be getting married. And, needless to say, I asked for prayer.

The priest serving the church at that point was in interim, but I had become really, really friendly with him. After the service he took me aside and, in a some what fatherly tone (pardon the pun) he asked: “Are you scared about this?” I hesitated a moment and then said: “Well, yes. I guess I am.”

“That’s good,” he replied. “If you weren’t I’d take you to the woodshed and give you a good whoopin!” (Slight pause.)

Perhaps the surprise about marriage is so many are so willing to give it a shot. Why? Unquestionably, it is a life changing event. And, whether or not we realize it, as such, as a life changing event, it can be a time for growth.

Indeed, I’m not against marriage, but if we labeled the married state as an opportunity for growth, I’m sure a lot of people would stop and give the prospect of getting married some more thought before signing up. All of which is to say, both marriage and growth are very serious subjects— but especially growth. (Slight pause.)

Now, Mark Twain is reputed to have said (quote): “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones that you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

But we also need to understand that catching the trade winds in our sails requires something. It requires risk. (Slight pause.)

Here is a trick question. You have $1,000 to invest and a series of choices for that investment. There is one investment which says you are 100% sure you will lose that $1,000. There is another one in which there is some assurance— some but not total— that you will make back the $1,000, but nothing more— break even. And there is yet one more where there is a chance you will lose the entire $1,000 and a chance you will make the $1,000 back and a chance you will make $1,000 on top of the $1,000 you invested. Which one of these investments has the least risk? (Slight pause.)

If you are 100% sure you are going to loose that $1,000, your risk is... zero, nada, zilch, nothing. There is no risk involved. You know what is going to happen. You will loose the money.

When you know what will happen there is no risk. It’s only when you don’t know what will happen that risk enters the picture. (Slight pause.) And we don’t know what will happen when we get married, do we? (Slight pause.)

And these words are from the work known as Frist Corinthians: “For we are God’s servants, working together; you are God’s field, God’s building.” (Slight pause.)

When Paul writes about being ruled by the flesh or dominated by its way of thinking, as this passage indicates, what is being addressed is not an inherently evil flesh. Indeed, there are many church people who would like you to think a negative attitude toward the body is a central topic of Paul.

But what the Apostle is really addressing is the flawed perspectives that characterize human values and human decisions. Paul is, in a quite neutral way, simply referring to the fact that human beings are finite in their existence, as Steve said earlier. [1]

In short, the divide about which Paul speaks is not the divide between spiritual as in ethereal and human as in carnal. The divide is not between evil and good. And in a real sense, the divide is not even between finite and infinite. The divide is between perspectives— a perspective as seen from human eyes and a perspective as seen from the eyes of God. (Slight pause.)

We— humans— tend to be risk averse. We like to reduce risk. Indeed, I had a conversation with a friend this week and the topic of what happened in Egypt came up.

I suggested that, if truth be told and rumor to the contrary, the foreign policy of most nations, any nation including ours, has nothing to do with freedom or lack thereof nor with forms of governments from democracies to dictatorships. You can talk all you want to about ideals, but a sound foreign policy hates... risk. A sound foreign policy is risk averse. A sound foreign policy has everything to do with trying to ensure stability.

Is the fact that Egyptians may be on the road to freedom wonderful? Yes. Does that frighten foreign policy experts from Moscow to Washington from Beijing to Jerusalem from London to Riyadh? Yes— because that road involves risk. (Slight pause.)

So, what might it require for us to be (quote): “...God’s servants, working together; you are God’s field, God’s building”? (Slight pause.) I think one of Paul’s main themes in this section of First Corinthians is growth. Indeed, Paul calls the Corinthians (quote): “infants in Christ.”

Paul understands that in order to strive to see things in a spiritual way, one must grow. In order to stop looking at the world in a limited, simply human way, growth is necessary.

Why? God is inviting us to participate in doing the work of God in the world. (Quote): “you are God’s field, God’s building.” So, what is the work of God? (Slight pause.)

This morning we read from Deuteronomy 30. One of my commentaries stresses that the 30th Chapter looks back on what has already been said in Deuteronomy and that between the 14th and the 25th chapters the following is outlined as being the work of God. It is a list which might surprise us all.

The sharing of feasts with the hungry; canceling the debts of the poor; organizing government to guard against excessive wealth; sharing hospitality with refugees; not charging interest on loans; prompt payment for those who work; leaving the residue of harvest for the disadvantaged; limiting punishment in order to protect human dignity. It’s all there in Deuteronomy.

That, my friends, is not just the vision God has. That is an invitation to us to see the world in ways we have never even tried to see it before. That is an invitation to growth. Amen.

02/13/2011
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York.

ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “‘The sharing of feasts with the hungry; canceling the debts of the poor; organizing government to guard against excessive wealth; sharing hospitality with refugees; not charging interest on loans; prompt payment for those who work; leaving the residue of harvest for the disadvantaged; limiting punishment in order to protect human dignity.’ That’s quite a list. It should give us some notion of how different the vision God might have for our lives is from the vision humanity currently holds dear.”

[1] Steve Craig was the Liturgist and indicated this in the introduction to the passage.

SERMON ~ 02/06/2011 ~ Choices

SERMON ~ 02/06/2011 ~ Choices ~ It should be noted that sermons (text and sound) are available at: .

02/06/2011 ~ Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany, Known in Some Traditions as the Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Isaiah 58:1-9a (9b-12); Psalm 112:1-9 (10); 1 Corinthians 2:1-12 (13-16); Matthew 5:13-20 ~ “Souper” Bowl Sunday ~ Communion Sunday.

Choices

“Is not this the fast that I choose, / the fast that please me? / To remove the bonds of injustice, / to undo the thongs, the rope of the yoke! / Let those who are oppressed go free, / and break every yoke you encounter!” — Isaiah 58:6b


There is a debate current among pastors, a discussion that is beginning to spill over into the popular press. It’s a discussion which started in the kinds of professional journals pastor types read. But an article about this issue was published in USA Today last April. That’s a pretty popular press, isn’t it. The headline referring to the aforementioned debate read: Survey: 72% of Millennials ‘more spiritual than religious’.

As a by-the-way and for those who may not be familiar with the term, Millennials are people born between 1978 and 2000, those born at the end of the last Century, the last generation of Americans born in the 20th Century. So, right now these are all people (or most of the people) 33 years old and under.

They account for more than 70,000,000 souls. The current population of American is 307,000,000, so this is about 22% of the population. All of the members of the Pennies for Prague group and friends who graced us their talents this morning, by definition, are Millennials. [1]

Millennials are said to be fundamentally optimistic. On average, nation-wide, Millennials also tend to be civic-minded, politically engaged and hold values long associated with progressives, such as concern about economic inequalities. Volunteerism is unusually high among this group.

Among the traits many social scientists have noted in this segment of the population, is a desire for a more multilateral foreign policy. They are willing to trust political leaders who perform well and show a non-cynical attitude toward political action and the usefulness of government. Here is one statistic of which most are probably unaware about this group. This generation, these Millennials, are larger in number— larger in number— than the so called Baby-boomer generation. [2]

So, will this group change the world in which we live? I’ll put it this way: by the time the presidential election of 2016 rolls around— that’s just five years away— statisticians estimate Millennials will be one third of the electorate eligible to vote. Put another way, in 2016 one third of the eligible electorate will be between the ages of 18 and 38.

Put yet another way, all those who are 13 years old today will be eligible to vote in 2016. But, more tellingly, statisticians also predict Millennials will make up 30% of all those who actually will vote in 2016.

The fact is that, as of now and already, this is a more politically active group than young people have been since the 1930s. And this tells us the influence of Millennials among actual voters could be quite, quite powerful.

So again, will this group change the world in which we live? I would not bet against them. (Slight pause.) All that brings me back to this survey which was reported about in USA Today, the one in which the headline read: 72% of Millennials ‘more spiritual than religious’. [3]

That USA Today article about Millennials goes on to throw out the following statistic: 65% of Millennials rarely or never attend worship services. But one could logically ask: is that a sound way to measure either religiosity or spirituality? And what does it mean to insist Millennials are ‘more spiritual than religious?’ (Slight pause.)

Let’s start by trying to define ‘religiosity’ in a simple way. Does it have something to do with going to church? Indeed, what does it mean when Scripture says: “Keep the Sabbath holy?” (Slight pause.)

Did the Israelites wandering in the desert go to church? Did Moses go to church? And why does the Prophet Isaiah ask ‘what do the ordinances of God mean?’ (Slight pause.)

Contrary to populist belief, keeping holy the Sabbath means nothing about attending church. It means each and every human being, no matter what their station— rich, poor, young, old— is entitled to a day on which no work is required.

Therefore, is it a day a person might have a chance to at least think about their relationship with God. But God does not require anything, either. So in short, keeping the Sabbath holy is an instruction about justice and the equality of all humanity.

So, some may define religiosity as keeping a set of rules. The Bible does not. Justice is defined as the key component in Scripture. And the Bible defines religiosity as justice.

So, what is ‘spirituality?’ Perhaps religiosity and spirituality are somehow tied? Is spirituality simply saying prayers? Or is part of spirituality attending a church or belonging to a church, somehow being religious? (Slight pause.)

There are three issues these questions about spirituality raise, especially as it concerns that group I’ve named— Millennials. One is ‘what does the world look like after the invention of Google?’ The second is ‘what will spirituality mean after Google?’ The third, and related, is ‘how will spirituality work after Google?’

You probably noticed I just used ‘Google’ in each of those questions. You see, that’s the way this topic was put in one of those musty old professional journals read by us pastor types. [4] It asked questions about Google. And I need to tell you neither I nor anyone else knows the answers to those questions. But let me offer my guesses.

First: ‘what does the world look like after the invention of Google?’ You can see the world changing before our eyes. The change is happening, in part, because of the aforementioned millennials.

Everything from how news is delivered to how entertainment is delivered to how education is delivered is changing. Dot-coms to i–tunes to on-line classes are with us and will probably be with us for a long, long time to come. Most millennials are familiar with the results of this revolution and use these aforementioned tools with aplomb and extensively.

Second: ‘what will spirituality mean after the invention of Google?’ What makes this question interesting is I don’t think spirituality will not change. However, true spirituality is something which is hard to do well right now and will continue to be hard to do well in the future. Why?

Again contrary to popular belief, spirituality is not simply and only about what you feel, but it is about what you feel as you learn more and more and more about one’s own self, about God and about other people. In short, spirituality is about a relationship with one’s own self, with God and with other people. Hence, learning spirituality, being on a spiritual journey, is an never ending process.

Indeed, learning more about one’s own self, about God and about people leads us to internalize what we learn. That, therefore, is what makes spirituality feel internal. But, in that spirituality is a learning process mostly about others, it is external. And again, it is hard to do now, but rewarding. It will be hard to do in the future, but rewarding. That will not change.

Last, and related: ‘how will spirituality work itself out after Google?’ (Slight pause.) Now, this is where those words in the Scroll of the Prophet Isaiah resonate (quote): “Is not this the fast that I choose, / the fast that please me? / To remove the bonds of injustice, / to undo the thongs, the rope of the yoke! / Let those who are oppressed go free, / and break every yoke you encounter!” (Slight pause.)

Spirituality is not about what you believe, not about a set of rules. But it is a group of choices. It is a group of choices about how we live our lives. Spirituality asks ‘are we making choices by which we learn to love God and love neighbor more deeply?’ Thereby, are we making a difference? If so, then we are deeply engrossed in spirituality. (Slight pause.)

In the Nobel Laureate address Barack Obama offered these words (quote): “...for all the cruelty and hardship of our world, we are not mere prisoners of fate. Our actions matter and can bend history in the direction of justice.” Our actions matter and can bend history in the direction of justice. (Slight pause.)

Institutions, institutions such as churches, and the media with its newspapers, broadcast networks and schools are all changing. Does that frightening some about the future? Yes.

But I, for one, am not worried about the future. Why? I know a lot of Millennials. They are preparing and will be prepared to offer outstanding leadership in the coming years.

They may do some things differently than they have been done them in the past. But I expect they will be committed to removing the bonds of injustice, undoing the thongs, the rope of the yoke, letting those who are oppressed go free. Amen.

02/06/2011
United Church of Christ, First Congregational, Norwich, New York

ENDPIECE: It is the practice of the Pastor to speak after the Closing Hymn, but before the Choral Response and Benediction. This is an précis of what was said: “My Hebrew Scriptures professor, Dr. Ann Johnston, a Roman Catholic nun I might add, said the Israelites did not have a theology, did not have a set of rules one would memorize. The Israelites did theology. They fed the hungry, clothe the naked, tended to widows and orphans. Doing is theology. Doing is religiosity. Doing is spirituality.”

[1] A group of High School students who are raising money to go to Prague this summer to participate in a music festival offered special music. The church has been generous in helping these student reach their goal of getting to Prague.

[2] The Progressive Politics of the Millennial Generation by Peter Leyden, Ruy Teixeira and Eric Greenberg on the web site of The New Politics Institute.
http://www.newpolitics.net/node/360?full_report=1

[3] USA Today, “Survey: 72% of Millennials ‘More Spiritual than Religious’: Spiritual or Religious?”, By Cathy Lynn Grossman.
http://i.usatoday.net/life/graphics/2010/0427-millennials-faith/spiritual-religious.jpg

[4] The Progressive Christian, “Theology and the Church After Google: How This New Age Will Change Christianity,” 02/01/2011, By Philip Clayton; Originally printed in the Princeton Theological Review.
http://www.tpcmagazine.org/article/theology-and-church-after-google