Sermon preached at First Congregational Church of Tallmadge on July 1, 2007
Galatians 5:1, 13-24
Luke 9:51-62
Dedicated to Isabella Christina Campi on the day of her baptism;
and always to the glory of God.
Freedom is what Paul proclaimed in the letter to the Galatians and freedom is what we are celebrating this week on our national holiday. Freedom is what this country is about. As Samuel Smith wrote in 1832: “My Country, ‘tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrims’ pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!”
And as Thomas Jefferson wrote: “We…declare, That these united Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States.”
And seventeen centuries earlier, the apostle Paul wrote: “for freedom Christ has set us free, stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” Freedom comes to us in two forms this week, and we rightfully celebrate both of them. The question that I want to put before us is this: “what does the freedom that we celebrate on the fourth of July have to do with the freedom that Paul proclaimed in Jesus Christ?” I think it’s worth our consideration.
The declaration of independence, signed on July 4, 1776, proclaims that all men are created equal and endowed by their creator with the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. This is a philosophical claim, and a theological point as well. To be human is to be at liberty to choose one’s own actions. Our freedom to do good or evil is witnessed to in the book of Genesis, when Adam and Eve, who stand for all of humanity, eat – not from an apple tree – but from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. This is often understood as the first sin and the fall of humanity, but many theologians interpret the tree as a way of describing what it means to be human. To be human is to know good and evil and to be able to choose, and the tree is a symbolic way of telling this basic truth. We are free to choose, and God will not force us one way or the other. God will not guide our lives like pulling strings on a puppet, or controlling a robot. God gives us freedom, “for freedom Christ has set you free.” But while God gives it to us as humans, sometimes humans will take it away, and it is up to us to stand up to Pharaoh, or to King George. It was up to our ancestors to form a new government to secure our freedom because being free is what it means to be human.
The freedom secured by this nation, the freedom we celebrate this week, is the freedom that God grants to all people. But, of course, the story is a bit more complex.
When our children are young we teach them about the declaration of independence and the writing of the Constitution in Philadelphia, and we celebrate Thomas Jefferson, and Benjamin Franklin, and John Adams and all the wise and brave people who were there. And then, as they grow older and are able to think about complexity, we teach them that we have not always lived up the ideal that all men are created equal. We teach them, for instance that this didn’t apply to slaves, for whom there was no freedom, no right to liberty, the pursuit of happiness, or even life. In fact, the constitution considered them to equal 3/5ths a white man, which was a compromise intended to give their southern slave owners greater representation in congress.
Women had a higher status, but no more rights under the constitution. Women couldn’t even vote until 1920. There are some of you who remember that. Not all were equally free at the dawn of this nation, and this is not to criticize the founding fathers, for we are right to celebrate them. It is rather to give credit along the way to many others as well.[1] It is to give credit to those who spoke out in the name of freedom for all, those who received severe injuries and even died on the hallowed protest ground. Freedom has been an expanding project, building on the progress of those who have come before. Our closing hymn is an example of the ongoing project. “America, The Beautiful” is a greatly loved hymn, and rightly so, and as our understanding grows of freedom, and of freedom in Christ, people in recent years have added verses to recognize how we are growing. To compare the freedom celebrated on July 4th to the freedom in Christ, we find that our nation often looks to the ideal of freedom in Christ and finds that we are not yet there. God’s freedom calls us to change.
And there is more. Paul writes that for freedom Christ has set us free. But it’s important to keep reading, because we know that people must be free, but free for what? Paul continues: “for you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”[2]
“Do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence.” I wonder about the dark side of freedom, when we push freedom to unhealthy extremes. Do we celebrate the freedom to say anything we want, no matter how crude, untrue, or damaging? Do we celebrate the freedom to amass more wealth than we could ever need while others are in want? Do we celebrate the freedom for corporations to do business without regard for their employees health or where their waste ends up as long as the bottom line is good? If we take seriously the freedom in Christ, then July 4th cannot be a day to celebrate just how far our freedom can go without any restriction or limit. It is not a question of what restrictions we are free from; it is a question of what we are free for.
Fred Craddock, who is one of the great preachers in this country, told the story about a little town in west Oklahoma where he pastored one of the four churches in town. Each church got about the same number in worship, but the most consistent attendance on Sunday mornings was the café, where many of the men set and talked about cattle and the weather, and would we get a good crop this year? The patron saint of this group was Frank, seventy-seven years old and set in his ways. He used to say “I work hard, I take care of my family, and I mind my own business. Far as I’m concerned, everything else is fluff.” He would say this to Fred when he saw him around town, and that was fine with Fred, he wasn’t trying to convert people in the post office line. Everyone in town and especially the guys at the café said that Frank would never step into a church. Well, it’s a free country, isn’t it?
Then one day, Frank showed up at Fred’s church, said that he wanted to be baptized. Well, the rumors started: “Frank must be sick, maybe it’s his heart, he must be scared to meet his maker.” But it wasn’t any of those. The day after his baptism, Fred said to him “Frank, you remember that little saying you used to give me so much: ‘I work hard, I take care of my family, and I mind my own business’?”
Frank said, “Yeah, I remember. I said it a lot.”
Fred asked “well, do you still say that?”
“Yeah”
“Then what’s the difference?”
Frank said, “I didn’t know then what my business was.” He had discovered his business: to serve human need.[3]
It’s a free country.
Jesus said it. Paul said it. Frank discovered it. The whole of God’s word can be summed up in one line: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” And we remember from what Jesus said and did that our neighbors are both friends and enemies, next door or around the world. Love them as yourself. That’s why you’ve been set free. That’s’ what freedom is about. We are free from acting out of fear or hate. We are free from having to return evil for evil, an eye for an eye. We are free from being enslaved to our own comfort because we are free to make ourselves uncomfortable in the service of others.
Celebrate this week. Celebrate this nation in which we are blessed to live. This is a land of incredible gifts and goodness. But celebrate also that different kind of freedom, the freedom for which Christ has set us free.
[1] Peter J. Gomes, from the sermon “Patriotism” in Sermons: Biblical Wisdom for Daily Living, 1998.
[2] Galatians 5:13-14
[3] Adapted from Fred B. Craddock, from Craddock Stories, ed. Graves & Ward, 2001, pg. 67.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Notes on the Youth Mission Tour
Here are some of the thoughts I've been having since I returned from the Youth Mission Tour to Atlanta, Georgia, with a wonderful group of high school students.
1. Atlanta, Georgia is a beautiful city. From our residence at Central Presbyterian Church, we could walk through the heart of downtown Atlanta, including Peachtree Street, the Underground, Woodruff Park, and my favorite, Centennial Park, which was built for the 1996 Olympic Games. On Thursday evening, we ate a picnic at Centennial Park, played soccer and played in the fountains, and shared a closing service and communion in the midst of the skyscrapers. It was a beautiful place.
2. Poverty is a harsh downward spiral. One day, we worked at a place that offers job assistance to people who are homeless. They help with resumes and the job process, and provide credit for public transportation to interviews and during the first weeks on the job. Imagine trying to find work without access to a telephone, computer, or even an address to put on your resume. Each setback makes it harder to make a move forward. The place where we served provided mail service, a voice mailbox, access to computers, and professional clothes to wear to an interview.
3. The faces of poverty are many. Some are harsh, but many are beautiful, delightful, and full of cheer. We met many people, adults and children, who lived in the poor areas of Atlanta, or who don’t have a home at all, who greeted us with infectious humor and goodwill. Many of the people with whom we volunteered were there to help because that place had helped them. They were formerly homeless, addicts, jobless, but now they were back on their feet, and on days off from work, they were volunteering to serve soup, run the showers in a shelter, or check people in for free clothing.
4. The faces we met were the faces of God. The organization that hosted us in Atlanta is called DOOR, and their guiding vision is to see the face of God in the city. In Matthew 25, Jesus says that when we feed the hungry, or offer clothes to the poor, we are doing it for him. It was Mother Theresa who said that she had seen Christ, seen him in the distressing disguise of the poor.
1. Atlanta, Georgia is a beautiful city. From our residence at Central Presbyterian Church, we could walk through the heart of downtown Atlanta, including Peachtree Street, the Underground, Woodruff Park, and my favorite, Centennial Park, which was built for the 1996 Olympic Games. On Thursday evening, we ate a picnic at Centennial Park, played soccer and played in the fountains, and shared a closing service and communion in the midst of the skyscrapers. It was a beautiful place.
2. Poverty is a harsh downward spiral. One day, we worked at a place that offers job assistance to people who are homeless. They help with resumes and the job process, and provide credit for public transportation to interviews and during the first weeks on the job. Imagine trying to find work without access to a telephone, computer, or even an address to put on your resume. Each setback makes it harder to make a move forward. The place where we served provided mail service, a voice mailbox, access to computers, and professional clothes to wear to an interview.
3. The faces of poverty are many. Some are harsh, but many are beautiful, delightful, and full of cheer. We met many people, adults and children, who lived in the poor areas of Atlanta, or who don’t have a home at all, who greeted us with infectious humor and goodwill. Many of the people with whom we volunteered were there to help because that place had helped them. They were formerly homeless, addicts, jobless, but now they were back on their feet, and on days off from work, they were volunteering to serve soup, run the showers in a shelter, or check people in for free clothing.
4. The faces we met were the faces of God. The organization that hosted us in Atlanta is called DOOR, and their guiding vision is to see the face of God in the city. In Matthew 25, Jesus says that when we feed the hungry, or offer clothes to the poor, we are doing it for him. It was Mother Theresa who said that she had seen Christ, seen him in the distressing disguise of the poor.
Witness
If you watched the Cleveland Cavaliers during the NBA playoffs, you will know what I’m talking about. First I saw the handwritten sign: “We are witnesses to this.” And then, during the final game against the Pistons to win their spot in the finals, I saw the professionally produced signs people held with just that one word: Witness.
I don’t know how these signs got started, but I understand what they meant. Almost nobody thought that the Cavs would do so well this year. And while everyone knows that LeBron James is a phenomenal player, his performance at the end of game 5 in the Eastern Conference Finals seemed, to basketball fans, miraculous. And so the signs go up: witness. We saw it. We were a part of it.
The word witness is powerful. It’s meaning is bigger than the idea of witnesses in a courtroom. It goes back to words of the New Testament. The people in the early church who wrote about Jesus used that word: witness. We were witnesses to these things. We saw it. We were a part of it.
Being a witness begins with being a part of a powerful, spiritual experience. It begins with the experience of God. You witness God in your life, and you share about that experience. The signs from the basketball games were in my mind in early June as the church gave its blessing to the high school graduates. Two of them spoke on behalf of their class, and they spoke as witnesses. They stood at the pulpit and told the congregation about their experiences of God. Of all the things that were said, one is sticking in my mind. Nate Rango had been thanking the congregation for the support and nurture that he has received and he said to all of us “we are paying attention.”
Sometimes it doesn’t seem as if people are paying attention to us, whether they are teenagers, children, or adults. But we have a witness who says otherwise. People are paying attention. They see. They are a part of it.
I don’t know how these signs got started, but I understand what they meant. Almost nobody thought that the Cavs would do so well this year. And while everyone knows that LeBron James is a phenomenal player, his performance at the end of game 5 in the Eastern Conference Finals seemed, to basketball fans, miraculous. And so the signs go up: witness. We saw it. We were a part of it.
The word witness is powerful. It’s meaning is bigger than the idea of witnesses in a courtroom. It goes back to words of the New Testament. The people in the early church who wrote about Jesus used that word: witness. We were witnesses to these things. We saw it. We were a part of it.
Being a witness begins with being a part of a powerful, spiritual experience. It begins with the experience of God. You witness God in your life, and you share about that experience. The signs from the basketball games were in my mind in early June as the church gave its blessing to the high school graduates. Two of them spoke on behalf of their class, and they spoke as witnesses. They stood at the pulpit and told the congregation about their experiences of God. Of all the things that were said, one is sticking in my mind. Nate Rango had been thanking the congregation for the support and nurture that he has received and he said to all of us “we are paying attention.”
Sometimes it doesn’t seem as if people are paying attention to us, whether they are teenagers, children, or adults. But we have a witness who says otherwise. People are paying attention. They see. They are a part of it.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
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.
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.
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