11/18/2012 ~ Twenty-Fifth Sunday after Pentecost ~ Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time (Proper 28) ~ 1 Samuel 1:4-20; (Instead of the Psalm) 1 Samuel 2:1-10; Daniel 12:1-3; Psalm 16; Hebrews 10:11-14, (15-18), 19-25; Mark 13:1-8 ~ The Sunday Before Thanksgiving.
Covenant Wholeness
“This is the covenant I will make with them / in those days, says our God: / I will put my laws in their hearts, / and I write them on their minds,” / then adds, / “I will never again remember their deeds of destruction or their offenses.” — Hebrews 10:16-17.
A friend has this sign hanging in her office: “We were all put on God’s good earth to accomplish a finite amount of work.” (Slight pause.) “I am so far behind I may never die.”
Sometimes I see the truth of that aphorism about two or three times a week. Indeed, I occasionally say I live my life based on triage.
The word triage first injected itself into our language during World War I. It was a process used in battlefield hospitals for sorting injured people into groups based on a need for and likely benefit from immediate treatment when available medical resources had to be rationed. In short: triage meant those who made these choices about medical care were playing God. Whose life would you try to save?
Triage has now come to be used in a less intimidating way. It’s not so much about playing God as it is about simply making choices. Thereby, the word asks a straightforward question: what is it which absolutely, positively has to get done next?
Whatever that is, whatever choice you make, drop everything else. Do that one thing. Get it done. Step two: once again ask what absolutely, positively has to get done next. Repeat the process. (Slight pause.)
The problem with that procedure is it’s actually unsustainable. It’s unsustainable not because the procedure fails to be successful. It is quite successful. Important things get done. The process is unsustainable because, eventually, its only by-product is guilt.
You see, when you’re always asking what absolutely, positively has to get done next, a realization slowly builds. It’s the realization that you fully well know what is not getting done. That’s because you fully well know what you’re laying aside.
That’s when you realize two other things: first, you are probably trying to do way too much. Second: because you believe you can do that much— don’t kid yourself, you can’t do anywhere near that much— because you are trying to do that much what you really are trying to play God.
So, what happens next? Guilt sets in. And maybe, just maybe, the biggest problem with guilt is it can immobilize.
An article in the New York Times this week said Hurricane Sandy made plain dividing lines in New York. It is a city long fractured by class, race, ethnicity, geography and culture.
Folks who live in upscale neighborhoods and who may not have thought much about the brick public housing complexes scattered around the boroughs, suddenly found themselves inside those buildings trying to help. They found themselves trudging up unlit stairwells, inquiring about the well-being of mostly impoverished residents.
The truth is some who live in trendy housing are more familiar with poverty from their travels to the so called “third world” than from any explorations within their own hometown. Hence, deep pangs of guilt have been discovered among piles of donated clothing as these folks come face to face with some of the misery that existed close to home even before the storm.[1]
Should they let that guilt immobilize them? Or should they start to tackle a problem which has been sitting in front of them all this time. (Slight pause.)
And these words are from the work known as Hebrews: “This is the covenant I will make with them / in those days, says our God: / I will put my laws in their hearts, / and I write them on their minds,” / then adds, / “I will never again remember their deeds of destruction or their offenses.” (Slight pause.)
The issue of guilt came up in our Bible Study on Wednesday night. After all, if God will never again (quote): “...remember their deeds of destruction or their offenses” why worry? Do whatever you want; it won’t matter.
And also, isn’t it true that people can be shamed into action? So isn’t guilt productive? Therefore, why would God not remember? (Slight pause.)
Is God not into guilt? After all, those television preachers say God is into guilt. (Slight pause.)
Scholars agree the work known as Hebrews is not written by Paul but by a disciple of Paul. But they also agree it is written to an audience of Jewish people. Hence, its most important project is to unpack the Law and the Prophets.
So, the writer of the Epistle uses one of the most important passages in Jeremiah, the one about writing the covenant on the hearts of the people. Besides restating the covenant, that passage insists deeds of destruction, offenses— what we commonly call sin— will not be remembered. And this is a part of the covenant.
The point made is two-fold: first, this recalls the deepest meaning of the covenant: that God stands with us always, no matter what our circumstances. Second, this covenant is renewed and revealed fully in Christ, Jesus. (Slight pause.)
God stands with us always. So, does that mean ‘why worry?’ Does that mean ‘do whatever you want; it won’t matter?’
And what about shame? People can be shamed into doing things. So, isn’t guilt productive? (Slight pause.)
We are human. I doubt guilt will ever be a commodity we can banish. And, given my Irish Catholic background, I am fairly confident in making that statement. Irish Catholics know a lot about guilt.
But a deeper question, aside from the reality of guilt, is this: from a psychological perspective, is guilt healthy? Is guilt not just another way of saying we can eventually do everything perfect. We can eventually do everything right?
Is guilt not just another way saying we should be in control. Is guilt not just another way saying we can be— can be... God? (Slight pause.)
Then, of course, there is the theological claim about Christ made by Hebrews. The covenant, expressed in and with fulness by the Christ, claims we are not perfect. The covenant says we are not God. And the covenant says the reality of God, the reality of the covenant, the reality of Christ, makes us whole. (Slight pause.)
In several minutes we will dedicate the Operation Christmas Child boxes. Are we doing that, are we making contributions, giving presents out of our own guilt, guilt that there are children in far off places who daily live in poverty?
Does our guilt about that say this is something we should do? Or should this dedication be a symbol that we stand in solidarity with these children? (Slight pause.)
I think the problem among many with guilt is not just that it is an psychologically unhealthy response. The problem with guilt is, eventually, it demands not action but inaction.
You see, guilt actually makes the claim that we are God, that we can be perfect, that we can do everything and that we know all the right answers. This— this— is a debilitating claim, if there ever was one. If we recognize the demands made by a guilt which lays claim on what we are not doing, at some point the demands made by that kind of guilt must, by definition, overwhelm us.
This love God, love neighbor I constantly talk about, realizes we are not perfect, we can’t do everything and we don’t know all the right answers. In short, loving God and loving neighbors demands that we trust God and trust our neighbors. It demands we rely on God and rely on neighbors.
Will trusting God and trusting our neighbors banish guilt? Take it from this old Irish Catholic: no. But loving God and loving neighbor will feed us far more than guilt ever will, because we will come to realize God stands in solidarity with us. Therefore, we eventually realize we need to stand in solidarity with our neighbors.
And who are our neighbors? Perhaps the question needs to be posed this way: if God asked us to name our neighbors, what would we say? Who would we name? Amen.
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 précis of what was said: “When I was in seminary often acted as a substitute preacher for pastors who were taking a Sunday off. Sometimes I was required to come up with a sermon title weeks in advance. I still do that. I think I do it because the title gives me a focus. The title this week, is Covenant Wholeness. And that’s what the covenant is about: that we are made whole by God. And there needs to be no guilt in being made whole by God.”
BENEDICTION: Go forth in faith. Go forth trusting that God will provide. God forth and reach out to everyone you meet in the name of Christ. And may the face of God shine upon us; may the peace of Christ rule among us; may the fire of the Spirit burn within us this day and forevermore. Amen.
[1] NY Times — http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/17/nyregion/after-hurricane-sandy-helping-hands-also-expose-a-new-york-divide.html?emc=tnt&tntemail0=y
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