God as a Surprise

PROPERS:         PROPER 6, YEAR B    

TEXT:                 1 SAMUEL 15:34 – 16:13                

PREACHED AT ST. PAUL’S, FOLEY, ALABAMA, ON SUNDAY, JUNE 17, 2018.

ONE SENTENCE:        God’s movement in the world typically comes in surprising ways.        

                                    

            The 20^thCentury poet, Ogden Nash, once penned a short rhyme:

                        How odd of God

                        To choose the Jews.

            His pithy little verse spoke volumes about the recurring theme in salvation history: God does the unexpected.

            Consider what our sacred scriptures have told us about the nature of God and how he has moved through history.

            We believe, as heirs of the Judeo-Christian tradition, in a God who reached down and made a covenant with a wandering shepherd, Abraham, and expanded that covenant to include his offspring, ultimately the 12 tribes of Israel.

            He selected a wandering, seemingly-insignificant Semitic people – without land or respect – to be his chosen people.

            As Paul Harvey used to say: “And now you know the rest of the story.”

            But we forget that truth from time-to-time.

            We confine God to a box, and we expected the expected.

            We fail to see God as an active, dynamic presence in the world who has shown us repeatedly – down through salvation history -- that he will do the unexpected.  He will not be constrained. The hand of the divine will not be shortened.

            Think of examples down through the millennia:

·     God, we are told, chose an iconoclastic, stuttering fugitive from Egyptian royalty to lead an enslaved people out of Egypt into a promised land full of milk and honey.

·     God chose a foreigner – a Moabite – named Ruth – to be the forbearer of Israel’s greatest king, and an ancestor of the one we call Christ. 

·     God repeatedly sent his prophetic messages – his unvarnished truth – through people without power or influence – people now known as the Major and Minor Prophets.

·     God selected a young, single woman in a remote country village of a few dozen people – all likely cave-dwellers – to be the bearer of the one we say is the Savior of the World.

·     The anointed one, the Christ, was nailed to a Roman cross, died, and on the third day rose from the dead.

·     His followers – a band of fishermen, tax collectors, and tradesmen – moved out to transform the known world.

·     And, as a final example, a passionate, fiery Pharisee who had persecuted the young church, became the most important missionary in Christian history.

What would be the pay-out if Las Vegas made odds on a story such as that?

So, we should not be terribly surprised – but we should be reminded – of the serendipitous nature of God in the story we have in the first lesson, from First Samuel.

To briefly recap that story:

·     The prophet Samuel, grieving over the unfaithfulness of King Saul, perceives a call to anoint the next king of Israel.

·     He travels to Bethlehem to anoint a son of Jesse – of the tribe of Benjamin.

·     He looks upon seven of Jesse’s sons, but God tells him that none of them is his chosen one.

·     Samuel asks Jesse if there are any others. Jesse tells him that the youngest of the sons is tending the flock.

·     Samuel sends for the youngest, and David comes from the fields.

·     Samuel sees that David is the chosen one and anoints him to be king.

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            It is so easy and tempting to put God in a box – to expect what we expect. It eases our fears and calms our anxieties.  The temptation is to rely on our expectations. We are much more comfortable with a God that can be predicted; whose actions and movements will not surprise us.

            I was in Italy this past week and had the wonderful experiences of seeing the sights of Milan, Padua, Venice, Pisa, Florence, Assisi, and finally, Rome. The great art and monuments speak of the deep appreciation for God during the past 2,000 years, especially in the first 15 Christian centuries.

            And then I remembered.  Something unanticipated transpired during that 16^thChristian century. I remembered how an unknown friar in a small German monastery five-hundred years ago had turned this great and formal culture on its ear.  Martin Luther, a small cog in a very large wheel, began the Reformation. He shook the very foundations of the church.

            The Church was changed.  And we are heirs of that change.

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            As I said earlier, we are much more comfortable with God as something that is predictable, even controllable. It is our hope that if we get enough people on our side, that God can be manipulated. The outcome will be what we hope. An impossible situation will be resolved to our benefit.  

            A term which describes that approach is deus ex machina– God in the machine.

            A more accurate and faithful approach, I think, is to see God working in all things.  While, as Paul notes, we will “see through a glass darkly”, we can rest assured that all thingsare ultimately in God’s hands.  There is no place we can go, no place where life may take us, that is beyond the ultimate redeeming power of God.  As St. Paul says, “Neither height nor depth…”

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            There is an earlier story about Samuel, from when he was just a young lad.

            His then-barren mother had prayed desperately for a child.  She was given Samuel.  As an act of gratitude, she gave him over to service in God’s house. There, he assisted an elderly man Eli.

            One night, while Samuel, slept, he heard a voice call to him: “Samuel, Samuel.” Thinking it was Eli calling him, he ran to Eli’s side.  Eli said, “I did not call you, son.”

            This happened several times, and the wise and elderly Eli saw what was happening. He told Samuel that it was likely the Lord calling to him.  He advised Samuel to respond, “Speak, Lord, for your servant listens.”

            When the voice called to him again, Samuel spoke those words: “Speak, Lord, for your servant listens.”

            And the Lord spoke.  He spoke words of condemnation on the sons of Eli – Samuel’s mentor.  The words were harsh.

            The next morning, Eli asked Samuel what he had heard, and encouraged not to hold one word back.  Samuel told him what the Lord had said.

            Eli’s response was one of great faith – devastating thought the words were. “It is the Lord. Let it be as he wishes.”

            He accepted that this was the providence of God.  It was not what he had hoped for, nor was it what he expected. He knew that ultimately God would be who God would be, and that all things are in God’s hands.

            As the camp song says:

            Surprise, surprise, God is a surprise,

            Right before your eyes,

            It’s baffling to the wise.

            Surprise, surprise, God is a surprise,

            Open up your eyes and see.

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Fosdick's Prophecy

           I recall in the early 1960s sitting in the Sunday worship service at Central United Methodist Church in Meridian, Mississippi, as we sang Harry Emerson Fosdick’s rousing hymn, “God of grace and God of glory.”

            Fosdick had written the hymn in 1930 for the dedication of Riverside Church, where he would serve as pastor.  The nation was in the throes of the Great Depression and was between the two world wars.  However, fascism was already rearing its ugly head on the continent of Europe.  

            Fosdick was an eloquent and highly-regarded preacher. He was known for his concern for the class of poor people created by the Industrial Revolution.  Among the members of his flock was the industrialist John D. Rockefeller – who gave $5 million for the construction of the new church.

            His lyrics were prophetic in both senses – the truth about “now” and the truth about the days to come:

God of grace and God of glory,
on thy people pour thy power;
crown the ancient church's story;
bring its bud to glorious flower.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
for the facing of thls hour,
for the facing of thls hour.

Lo! the hosts of evil round us,
scorn thy Christ, assail his ways!
From the fears that long have bound us,
free our hearts to love and praise.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
for the living of these days,
for the living of these days.

Cure thy children's warring madness,
bend our pride to thy control;
shame our wanton, selfish gladness,
rich in things and poor in soul.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
lest we miss thy kingdom's goal,
lest we miss thy kingdom's goal.

Set our feet on lofty places;
gird our lives that they may be
armoured with all Christlike graces,
pledged to set all captives free.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
that we fail not them nor thee,
that we fail not them nor thee!

Save us from weak resignation
to the evils we deplore;
let the search for thy salvation
be our glory evermore.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
serving thee whom we adore,
serving thee whom we adore.

            In the early 1960s we had moved well-past the challenges of the Great Depression, the rise of fascism, and the First and Second World Wars.  We, in the South, were confronting our own demons – internal, societal demons.  These words from Fosdick’s hymn cried out for divine guidance: Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the facing of thls hour,for the facing of thls hour.

            It was a long and trying journey.  The days of the early and mid-1960s in Meridian were not easy.  The Ku Klux Klan (one of its most virulent arms) was very active in the Meridian area.  There were the murders of three young civil rights workers.  There was a bombing of a synagogue.  There was the attempted bombing of a prominent Jewish businessman.  George Wallace was the political hero of those days.

            I must admit, I hear echoes of those sentiments even today.

            All that came back to me today – but different lyrics from that hymn were on my mind.  As I listened to the President’s comments from the Cabinet Room on the news today, I heard him speak of the financial prosperity this nation is enjoying while he was minimizing the challenges we face and blaming others for all the problems. The message was clear, “Our financial success overshadows all these problems.” Minimized were issues such as class warfare, immigration and its myriad offshoots, international peace, and world trade.

            My internal response was instantaneous: Luke 12:15-21. Here are those words:

¹⁵And Jesus said to them, ‘Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.’ ¹⁶Then he told them a parable: ‘The land of a rich man produced abundantly. ¹⁷And he thought to himself, “What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?” ¹⁸Then he said, “I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. ¹⁹And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” ²⁰But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” ²¹So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich towards God.’

            Then, I recalled the words, from so many years before, of Harry Emerson Fosdick’s hymn, “rich in things but poor in soul.”

            I was stunned by the accuracy of Fosdick’s words, written nearly 90 years ago.  But they bespoke truth.  The combination of those words and Jesus’ teaching about priorities being skewed had the stinging ring of truth to them.

            I was reminded of the prophets who spoke God’s truth to Israel and Judea before the downfall of those two kingdoms.  Those prophets were ignored, rejected, and even killed by the leaders of “civil religion” in their day. Their words are painfully relevant today.  The prophecies of 2,500 years ago need to be read, marked, learned, and inwardly digested today.

            When Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the leaders of the civil religion asked him to quieten his disciples, who were proclaiming his greatness. Jesus’ words spoke to the religious authorities then, and they should speak to true religious leaders today:  ⁴⁰He answered, ‘I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.’

A Valedictory Sermon

PROPERS:          FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY, YEAR B        

TEXT:                 1 CORINTHIANS 9:16-23

PREACHED AT ST. PAUL’S, MAGNOLIA SPRINGS, ON SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 2018 – MY LAST SUNDAY AS INTERIM RECTOR.

ONE SENTENCE:        The Holy Spirit moves through a wide variety of people, viewpoints and experiences; we would be wise to value each.

                                   

            Several years ago, I was on a national faculty team for clergy renewal.  The program was named CREDO, for Clergy, Renewal, Education and Development Opportunity.

            I began as a member of a team led by a very wise, gifted, senior priest named Ron Crocker, from the Diocese of Virginia.

            Our faculty team of eight would meet with some 30 participants at various diocesan retreat centers for eight days at a time. Faculty members, including myself, would make presentations aimed at provoking reflection and insight by the participants.  There was small group time, social time, and time for individual reflection.  There was also worship time, with services scheduled three times each day.

            As each retreat week ended, our leader, Ron, would offer his concluding meditation. It was always had the same theme: “Good-bye. I love you.”

            Ron was expressing his thanks to the participants who had prepared for and come to the conference, and shared deeply of themselves and their individual journeys.  He was thanking them for offering themselves to Christ’s ministry and for sharing so richly with the assembled group.

            And he was expressing his gratitude, affection, and even love for them.  It was a poignant way to say good-bye.

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            I understand more fully Ron’s sentiments as I stand here today – my last day as interim rector of St. Paul’, Magnolia Springs. In fact, my last day as an interim anywhere.

            When I came here last June, at the invitation of Maybelle Godwin, Chip Groner and Johnny Cooks, I was unsure of my pastoral and parochial sealegs.  I had just retired after sixteen years as Canon to the Ordinary in the Diocese of Mississippi.  But that was wholesale ministry, and not retail ministry.

            And there was more to it.  During my last year as the Bishop’s assistant, I helped guide an extremely painful and difficult clergy discipline case, and sought to resolve two highly-inflamed parish conflicts.  All of this was very intense and close to home. One of the parish conflicts was resolved very poorly and led to a very dear friend going to another diocese.

            I was like the old horse that had been rode hard and put up wet. I was done.

            It had been sixteen long years since I had served a parish – something I loved and was had been adequately prepared for.  But that had been a long time ago, and I had counted a lot of beans since that time.

            So here I came to this beautiful little chapel in South Alabama’s equivalent of Mayberry RFD.  There were some challenges, to be sure, but I was also mindful of the Hippocratic oath: “First, do no harm.”

            I may have told you that when I first became Rector of Church of the Resurrection in Starkville, Mississippi, my family and friends were greatly amused that this red and blue-to-the-core Ole Miss Rebel had been called to serve in the town where Mississippi State was located.

            I understood their amusement, but there was a more profound theological point to be made. And St. Paul makes it today in the second lesson:

“For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law) so that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.”

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You have been an easy lot to save.  It has been a joy to work side-by-side with you and witness the various ministries you have so freely undertaken and carried out on your own.  A guiding principle I have had is, stay out of the way.

            But there is an additional lesson I have learned.  I am told that an airplane is more gently guided by a light hand on the controls – that a tight grip can lead to a rough flight.  Perhaps Chip Groner can verify that metaphor.

            It is a metaphor, though, that I have learned with some value here.  These past eight months have been freeing – in the sense that St. Paul expressed in the passage today.  I have been free to be myself. 

I have learned what 55-gallon drums are filled with.  I have learned important lessons about inspecting pepper flakes.  I have had the opportunity to relate to you in your various places, to share your stories and experiences, to laugh and pray with you, because we are all freed in the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

            I guess that freedom that I felt reached its apex when I dressed as Lord Canterbury for the Madrigal Dinner. It was then that I knew I had thrown all caution to the wind. The picture of that outfit, posted by Nora, still gets humorous comments on my FaceBook page.

            And I mention Nora.  It is very important to me that my wife have a hospitable place to worship.  I frequently take my read of a congregation from her perceptions.  St. Paul’s has been warm and comfortable for her.  John has welcomed her into the choir.  For the first time in many years, we have felt at home.

            The warmth of this congregation is representative of a lesson that is much larger, and a lesson that I would commend to your new rector:  First, love the people.  You can do much more good with the people than working against them.

            A combined wish and direction I have for you in the days ahead:  Continue to be the people of God.  Do not resort to being a clique.  Continue welcoming strangers. Minister to those in the community.  Let your vision see beyond these four walls.  Continue to worship God, giving of your time, talent and treasure.

            Thank you ever so much.

            As my friend Ron Crocker would say: Good-bye. I love you.