It is a general rule of thumb that sermons are planned about a month ahead. After looking
at the lectionary selections, with a primary emphasis on the Gospel as a starting point, one generally looks for
the points that jump out and then tries to find the common thread that links them all. Then you pick the title
and the hymns that go with that theme. Every once in a while, a month after the fact, when you get to the actual
week of the sermon you wonder "What was I thinking?"
In this case the thing that jumped out for me on reading today's gospel way back when was Jesus' repeated use of
the phrase "Today, tomorrow and the next day." It would have had symbolic meaning then, stressing the
completeness of the event, similar to "hook, line, and sinker," or "lock, stock, and barrel,"
but it is clearly spoken with the confidence of one who knows for certain what the future holds, and followed by
actions that reflect those convictions.
I thought about that in the context of what we call "a five day forecast" today. You know, the one where
the weather person tells you not only what it is going to do this afternoon, but offers a partial view of the week
ahead? So if you don't like the way it looks today you can take some satisfaction in the fact that by Wednesday
it will be sunny and in the 70's. Or if you are having a great day today, you can be brought down by the fact that
come Tuesday a cold front is moving in from the west and we will have snow flurries giving way to rain.
The beauty of a five day forecast is that it implies we can plan ahead, and even though it rarely happens the way
they say it will we do allow it to effect our lives. It makes us think that somehow we can anticipate our own destiny
and if one looks far enough down the road we can confidently anticipate the future and plan accordingly.
I don't suppose that is any more naive than people entering into wedding and baptismal vows, or having strong reactions
to medical reports about life expectancy, or even thinking about the bleakness of the world's future based on the
evening news...sincerity is a far cry from reality.
Still, we act as if we can know the future, and the question we are being asked to face today is "Can we?"
All of our lections would imply that we can and we should, and to fail to act in accordance with that knowledge
leads to our own undoing.
Our Old Testament lesson tells the story of Abram literally "cutting a covenant" with God, with an emphasis
on the visual implications of cutting. It is an ancient practice whose symbolism may seem foreign and distasteful
to us today, but it's the first picture of God as a pillar of smoke and fire, elements that would later lead the
Hebrews from captivity to freedom. These symbols represent the presence of God in darkness as well as light, and
here in this covenant making process as a God who passes through desolation in order to make promises.
In later times the "cutting" would be symbolized by circumcision. In that process though no life was
taken, one was equally claimed and marked. Identity would be confirmed and sanctified.
You may remember that last week the Devil tempted Jesus with questions related to the subject of "Who are
you?" Today the question is more, "To whom do you belong?"--To whom do you give your loyalty and
your allegiance?
In the epistle Paul admonishes those who have surrendered their allegiance to anything less than the cross. He
addresses the issue of what constitutes our ultimate concern as he battles those who are vacillating on the very
freedoms Christ had brought to give universal access to God. He rebukes all lesser claims as false allegiance to
gut instincts,--"the belly"--over the lifeblood of Christ.
Paul Tillich taught that there is no real, meaningful "Ultimate Concern" apart from God - nothing else,
nobody else, can truly make us whole. If we worship false gods we court our own destruction, because we have put
our faith in that which cannot ultimately give us life, and have thus surrendered not only our true heritage, but
our true home.
Philippi was one of those places where Roman citizenship meant something. It was on the east-west connector of
Roman trade and culture, and when first established the Philippian church was the most western Christian community
of faith from Jerusalem. In such a frontier outpost knowing where one's authority came from was very important.
Not losing sight of one's home instilled traditions was essential.
Jesus' words in Luke followed a discussion about who could be saved and his advice was to seek the narrow path.
We have to remember that the time of Luke is "post Temple destruction" when the priestly class is gone
and the Pharisees have replaced them, helping through their education to preserve the traditions of Israel and
make them more home oriented as opposed to Temple centered. Perhaps this is why he makes them concerned heroes
in trying to "save" Jesus from Herod.
But it's Jesus response that should concern us, that oft quoted reference to a "hen and her chicks."
Seventy six times in scripture, the word for "corners" (the four corners of the Jewish prayer shawl)
is translated, "wings." It is quite possible that Jesus was expressing his own longing to bring the people
of Jerusalem into the same power of a prayer life that sustained him throughout his ministry. To receive the care
of God through the prayers of Christ is an even more powerful image than that of being "mother-henned"
by anyone.
All of this focuses us on a different place and another time. It is a cry that the present is unacceptable in terms
of our understanding of the way it is supposed to be, and the way we know it ultimately will be. That is the definition
of lament in the Bible, a protest important to all three of the Abrahamic faiths; Judaism, Christianity and Islam.
Shiite Muslims have a strong tradition of lament that centers around the murder of Mohammed's grandson Hussein
in Karbala. They remember his death during the time of Ashura that was commemorated this past week. For them it
is a protest that things are not as they should be. Hence it was a graphic reminder this week that things are not
as they should be in the world, when the observance of Ashura in the town of Karbala was marred by several bombings.
All of us should lament such a travesty.
It is a tragic world in which we live. Things are not the way they were meant to be. Protest is a good word. One
should not be silent in the face of things that are wrong and contrary to the promises of God if that is where
we place our trust.
C.S. Lewis in his book, THE PROBLEM OF PAIN, written almost 50 years ago now - puts it this way: "We are very
shy nowadays, of even mentioning heaven. We are afraid of the jeer about `pie in the sky' and of being told that
we are trying to escape from the duty of making a happy world here-and-now into dreams of a happy world elsewhere."
"But", Lewis continues, "either there is 'pie in the sky' or there is not. If there is not, then
Christianity is false, for this doctrine is woven into its whole fabric. If there is, then this truth, like any
other, must be faced... whether it makes us popular or not."
We are "resident aliens," people who know of a different and better way. We are called to live it here
and now despite all outward circumstances to the contrary. A favorite coronation hymn, and one that was mentioned
this past week in the release of the tapes of Princess Diana is a hymn entitled "I Vow To Thee, My Country."
It was said this was her favorite. The words are as follows:
I vow to thee, my country-all earthly things above- Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love; The love
that asks no question, the love that stands the test, That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best; The love
that never falters, the love that pays the price, The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.
And there's another country, I've heard of long ago- Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
We may not count her armies, we may not see her King; Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase, And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths
are peace.
Our conscience, our country, and our world may oft find itself in a foreign place. May God help us to remember
whose we are, and empower us to act accordingly.
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