Sermon - The Vision and the Gift

A sermon from June 3, 2007
I Chronicles 29:10-17 Romans 5:1-5

Dedicated to the high school graduates; and always to the glory of God.

“A bit of advice given to a young Native American at the time of his initiation
‘As you go the way of life, you will see a great chasm. Jump. It is not as wide as you think.’” (quoted in A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living, by Dianne K. Osbon, 1991, page 26.)

There are those times in our lives when the routine of month to month and year to year are interrupted by events that create a before and after. Time is divided into two periods, life before and after marriage, life after retirement, life after graduation. Or think of life after moving to a new place, life after taking an important risk, life after giving something important for someone else. There are life changing moments that feel to us like a chasm that opens up in the normal road of life. There are times when simply strolling along through life will not carry us forward. These times demand more of our attention, more commitment, and more courage. We must choose to jump, and trust that it is not as far as we think.

In our reading from the Hebrew scripture, King David and the people of Israel had such an occasion. During David’s reign the nation had come into it’s own. It had established a new capital in Jerusalem, and now, finally, this wandering nation that had come through the wilderness carrying the ark of the covenant in a tent found themselves settled and at home. And yet, even in Jerusalem, with the King’s palace built, their place of worship, the holy ground where the ark of the covenant stood was still this tent. It was time to build a Temple for God, a place to center and celebrate their faith in God in whom they had such great trust. It was a large project. It would mark change, and afterward life would be different before the Temple. They had a vision, and they met the vision with their gifts. The words of David from the reading we heard acknowledge that they were able to give because of what God had given them. “O Lord our God,” he says, “all this abundance that we have provided for building you a house for your holy name comes from your hand and is all your own.”

If that all seems like ancient history, let me take you to the more recent past, in 1819, when the members of this church found that the place where they were meeting for worship was too small. I read about that time in the words of a play that this church put on in 1925 to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the completion of the church on the circle, a church that was only a vision back in 1819. Rev. Woodruff spoke of the growth in Tallmadge: “Our population is fast increasing and we need a meeting-house.” “Settlers are already coming to Tallmadge from other communities on the Western Reserve whose founders took less thought for church and school provisions.”

Some agreed immediately, but others raised valid concerns:
“It would be a big undertaking…. We are poor and building is expensive. Where would we get glass and paint and nails? It doesn’t seem practical to bring them from Pittsburgh until transportation is better.”

Another suggested that they could fit the growing congregation in Whitlesey’s barn, at least in the summer months, and later when a steeple was suggested, Reuben Beach objected that it would cost too much, and could be added later. But then the gifts began to come. Captain Oviatt donated four black walnut trees for pillars; Deacon Sackett gave a large whitewood for clapboard siding, and the Hine family gave stone for the foundation.

There was a vision in 1819, and the vision brought forth the courage of gifts, and the history of this church was written. “As you go the way of life, you will see a great chasm. Jump. It is not as wide as you think.”

Now, a faithful and courageous life does not promise a life free from setbacks. In fact, our trials have much to teach us. A colleague of mine still remembers a letter he received on graduating college. It was full of hopes, but not the usual kind, for success and happiness and such. Rather, the writer hoped that he would someday do something good and get no recognition or credit at all, so that he would learn that good is not done for reward, hoped that someday he would attempt something that just fell apart, so that he would learn that he is not loved for his accomplishments, and that life is not a test of our abilities.

I don’t want to wish our graduates 100 percent success. It was Woody Allen who said “If you don’t fail now and again, it’s a sign you’re playing it safe.” With that in mind, there’s a minister who has given his congregation a goal of failing twice a year. Now, if we gave that goal to some of you type A personalities, you’d go right out and look for the first opportunity. Maybe a neighbor says to you “I stopped going to church a few years ago. It was always the low point of an otherwise nice weekend.” You decide to invite them to church: “Where I go to church, we really look forward to it. It gives me strength for the week ahead and the people really care about each other. Would you like to come visit with us sometime?”

The neighbors say “no thanks.” Great! You’ve met half your goal for the year. It isn’t hard to do. If they say yes then you have to keep looking for your failure that tells you you’re not playing it safe. I do not hope for complete success for our graduates or for any of us. I hope for lives of jumping courageously. I hope for a vision that will inspire us to give courageously. I hope for a life that is not just playing it safe.

As you go the way of life, you will see a great chasm. We don’t know when this will happen. It will be a time of change, a time when we are able to create the shape of our lives, our communities, and even the world. It is a time that will shape how our histories are written. When you reach that time, jump. It is not as wide as you think.