Sunday, August 26, 2012

Spiritual Practices ~ Sermon ~ 08/26/2012

08/26/2012 ~ Proper 16 ~ Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost ~ 1 Kings 8:(1, 6, 10-11), 22-30, 41-43; Psalm 84; Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18; Psalm 34:15-22; Ephesians 6:10-20; John 6:56-69.

Spiritual Practices

“Stand therefore— stand fast— and with truth as the belt around your waist put on justice as your breastplate.  As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready— zeal?— to spread the Good News of peace.” — Ephesians 10:15.

Occasionally, in private, I tell the story I am about to relate.  I may have even told this story before in the course of offering a sermon from this pulpit.  But I don’t remember doing so.  So, if I did, it was a long, long time ago.

Hence, at the risk of repeating myself, I want to offer the story about a significant point, a crucial time, in the lives of Bonnie and Joe Connolly.  It is the story about when I came to a realization that God might be calling me to go to Seminary.  (Slight pause.)

When I moved to the State of Maine, I became aware of Bangor Theological Seminary.  Since I occasionally had the thought that I might be a candidate for the ordained ministry, I intentionally got on their mailing list.

(I remember pulling a card down off a poster on a wall.  I remember writing it and mailing it.)  As would any good institution of higher learning, they sent me some literature from the Seminary about every three months.

After a year of doing that, they sent me a letter with a post card enclosed.  It asked me to check off a box— yes or no— did I still want to stay on the mailing list?  I understood.  After all, it cost them money to send out mailings, so why not ask that question?

While I did want to stay on the mailing list, I was convinced my time for Seminary had not yet arrived.  So, I sent back a long letter explaining that.  About a week later a Seminary catalogue came in the mail— nothing else— not even a cover letter— just a catalogue.  The Seminary had never sent me a catalogue before.

The package arrived on a Friday.  Bonnie and I were busy.  I put it aside.  But Bonnie had to work that Saturday and I did not.  So, after she left I sat down and started to read.

Inexplicably, as I paged through a list of course descriptions, I found myself crying.  It was at that point I remembered I once asked an Episcopal priest friend what it felt like when she realized she had a call to ordained ministry.  “Oh,” she said.  “It felt awful.  I sat at my kitchen table and cried.”

And there I was, sitting on the couch at 10A Lincoln Street in Brunswick, Maine, reading course descriptions— and mind you, course descriptions are really quite boring— there I was, sitting on the couch at 10A Lincoln Street in Brunswick, Maine, reading really boring course descriptions and weeping.  And I knew I was probably in trouble.

So, I made an appointment with my pastor, Bill Imes, and we had a long, long talk.  A little over a year later, I found myself taking classes at the Portland branch of Bangor Seminary.  (Slight pause.)

And these words are from the work known as Ephesians: “Stand therefore— stand fast— and with truth as the belt around your waist put on justice as your breastplate.  As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready— zeal?— whatever will make you ready to spread the Good News of peace.”  (Slight pause.)

There is thesis which has been around for quite some time and its premise has recently gained some added traction because of studies done in the academic world.  It says this: we humans communicate by telling stories.

I would strongly suggest a part of story telling is description.  And I think that’s what we are hearing in this passage from Ephesians— description.   But it is a description which everyone in the First Century of the Common Era who heard or read Ephesians would have understood.

You see, the martial imagery, what sounds like images of war-making to our ears, images prevalent in this reading, clearly reflect the social setting of the mid First Century.  The dominance of the Roman Empire, the pervasiveness of its military presence, that the Roman Army was an army of occupation in most places in the Mediterranean, would have given these words about armor and strength ready currency with its contemporary audience.

Yes, it is a tragedy that the church has often aligned itself with various empires in the course of history.  And that reality makes it even more difficult to hear this passage afresh.  But that is exactly what we have to do— listen with fresh and keen insight.

Now, part of the problem in hearing what this passage says is ours too.  A straight translation of the words from the Ancient Greek gives us no sense of the subtle meanings found here.  So we tend to see this passage in a completed sense, as a command, when we hear (quote): “be strong in Christ, draw your strength from Christ and from the strength of that mighty power.”

However, the strength sought here does not come all at once.  The tense of the verb suggests not an immediate event or a command but an ongoing action.  Second, “be strong” could be heard as demanding that people become strong out of their own resources or by their own talents.  But the admonition is passive.

Thereby, this “being made strong” or “being empowered” is not one’s own doing, not of one’s own volition.  It is happening to us, not because of us.

This meaning can become clearer for us given the words toward the end of the passage.  (Quote): “Pray also for me so that when I speak God will open my mouth and put words on my lips giving me a message which will make known with boldness the mystery of the Good News...”

All of which is to say what we find in this section of Ephesians is a story.  It is a story about God acting in the life of an individual and in the life of a community told in a way which could readily be understood by that community.  And we moderns sometimes have a hard time hearing that.  (Slight pause.)

The first Sunday I preached here I said a pastor’s job, week to week, is to share something about the individual faith of that pastor, about a relationship with God, in the hope that such sharing might help others.  And I also said that it was beyond me to tell that story in just one Sunday or in a month of Sundays or in a year of Sundays.  And so I shared some of that story earlier.

As it turns out, it’s been sixteen years of Sundays and I’m still at it.  That says either a) I’m not good at telling the story or b) the story of any relationship with God is so rich and multi-faceted that the story can and does go on and on and on.  My vote is ‘b’— the story can and does go on and on and on.  (Slight pause.)

So, what’s your story?  What is your story of your relationship with God?  What is your story of your relationship with God within the community of faith?

You see, my premise here is these words from Ephesians reflect a story about a  relationship with God and the story of the community of faith in its relationship with God.  If my premise is accurate, and this passage does that, then purpose of this story is to encourage us to do the same.  (Slight pause.)

If we are, in the words of Martin Luther, a priesthood of all believers, we all have a calling.  It may not be to the ordained ministry.  But it is one of sharing.  And unless we share our story with each other and then share it with those outside of the community of faith, the story is destined to die.

Now, I for one, do not see sharing the story as easy.  It is simply necessary.  And it is a spiritual practice.  But we tend to be afraid of sharing, despite the thought that this is a spiritual practice, despite the thought that this is necessary.

Why?  Probably we conjure up images of people who speak of faith in terms of combat.  It conjures up images of people who speak of faith in terms of aggressiveness.  But, even though this passage speaks about strength, it is not about combativeness.

You see, being strong does not mean you need to fight or be combative.  Being strong means you need to have the strength to refrain from aggression.

So, let us do as this passages says we should.  Let us (quote): “...spread the Good News of peace.”

Why?  The peace of Christ does surpass our understanding.  But unless we share that— that the peace of Christ surpasses understanding— no one will know about the peace of Christ surpasses understanding.  And that, my friends, sharing a story of a relationship with God— your story of a relationship with God— is a spiritual practice.  Amen.

08/26/2012
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 Congregational Response and Benediction.  This is an prĂ©cis of what was said: “Here is another modern heresy: ‘Beliefs make you a better person.’  The reality is: beliefs do not make you a better person.  Behavior does.  Spiritual practices have to do with behavior.”

BENEDICTION: Let us trust God to provide all we really need.  God knows us, loves us and blesses us in Jesus, the Christ.  Let us love one another as Christ has loved us.  And may the peace of Christ, which surpasses understanding, keep our minds and hearts in the companionship and will of the Holy Spirit, this day and forever more.  Amen.