St. Christopher's Episcopal Church: Sermons
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A Sermon Preached at St. Christopher's Episcopal Church, Oak Park, IL
on the 25th Sunday after Pentecost, November 18, 2007 (Proper 28, Year C, RCL)
by the Rev. J. Paris Coffey
Readings:
Isaiah 65:17-25; Canticles 9 (Isaiah 12: 2-6); 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13; Lk. 21:5-19
By your endurance you will gain your souls - Luke 21:19
On Wednesday, after reading today's Gospel, our Bible Encounter Group discussed what we'd do if we knew the end was imminent. Some of us, those with children still at home, said they'd stop wrestling kids over homework. Others said they wouldn't worry about bills. All of us agreed we'd spend more time with family and friends, telling those closest to us how much we loved them. And because we're women, we concurred that we'd undoubtedly dispense with housework. Some said they'd pray more, enjoy the beauty of creation and eat whatever they wanted, regardless of health or calorie content. But no one said they'd increase their pledge to the church. And why should they, if the end is at hand?
This is precisely what some members of the early Church wanted to know, including the Thessalonians whom Paul, or one of his followers, addresses in the letter you heard this morning. Believing that the Second Coming of Christ would occur immediately, some of these new Christians decided to do nothing but wait and watch. "'Why do housework, avoid junk food or worry about bills if Jesus is coming right back," they reasoned. "And why in heaven's name give time and money to the Church?" Paul's response to such sentiment comes with obvious irritation. "Anyone who does not work should not eat," Paul asserts, which in all honesty sounds a bit uncharitable.
On the other hand, in light of a probable shortfall in our own church's pledges for the coming year, I find myself empathizing Paul. "We've worked night and day," Paul laments along with s Annual Giving Team, "to set an example for you, but no more e lunches!" Paul sounds a bit burned-out if you ask me, and yet with significant budget cuts likely at St. Christopher's, I empathize. Oh, I'm still hopeful we'll receive what we need, but if not, I fear the solution to an already tight budget may be to cut staff. The rector will just have to work harder, and if that's not enough, we can always cut our Diocesan pledge. That way, most people won't have to feel a thing, although the truth is that both Paul and Jesus believe that it is crucial for us to feel something - to commit something of ourselves for our faith - for "by your commitment/your endurance," Jesus says, "you will gain your very lives."
The exact translation of this verse in today's Gospel reads, "You will gain your souls," but the New International Version says, "By standing firm you will gain your life." The King James turns the verse into an order, commanding, "Possess ye your souls," or in the literal Greek, "Own by whatever means necessary your life, your spirit, your breath!" Apparently our commitment to Christ and participation in the life of the Church is about more than just meeting church budgets. It's about claiming our part in the life of God and thereby claiming our power and place in the world.
Our power? Most of us feel powerless, believing there's little we can do to change the world which is interminably full of hardships. Wars and uprisings, earthquakes and famines, persecutions and betrayals, global-warming, terrorism and disease ... we can't change that! With God's grace, though, we can change ourselves. We can learn to stand firm in all that Christ has taught us - standing firm in love when hatred confronts us, in forgiveness when we feel betrayed, in generosity toward each other when the world tells us it's everyone for him-or-herself, and standing firm in faith when fear threatens to overwhelm us. And fear will threaten, for as Jesus says plainly in today's Gospel, alignment with God includes betrayal, persecution and death.
It's not exactly the Good Life that the world promises us if we just work hard enough, keep our nose to the grindstone, and learn to maneuver the system. Rather Jesus virtually guarantees that if we join up with him we'll share not only in betrayal, persecution and death, but be hated by all as well. It's enough to make you want to shred your baptismal certificate and hightail it out the door. Of course, Jesus also promises that "by our endurance we will gain our souls," but somehow endurance under such conditions seems difficult at best - in fact, impossible if tried alone, although today': lessons assure us that we are not alone.
Indeed, today's lessons assure us that are deeply loved by a God who stands with us to strengthen us when life becomes difficult. And difficulty is inevitable, for sooner or later, if we live long enough, difficulties will arise. This is the part the world doesn't tell us when it promises the Good Life. What's worse is that Christianity doesn't always tell us this either, sometimes leading us to believe that with God on our side, life will be perfect. I'm never sure which Bible such Christians are reading, but it's not the one we read from every Sunday. Rather the Bible we read tells us over and over again that life is difficult.
Friends will betray us, it says, just as they did Jesus. The world will disparage those who stand up for values that go against the grain. Disease will plague the faithful as surely as it does the unfaithful. And nation will rise against nation, earthquakes, fires and famines persist, and sooner or later death will come to us all. That's life, or part of it, which can be downright terrifying as our Wednesday Bible Group acknowledged after hearing today's Gospel. "Luke's description of the end of times sounds likes now," we all agreed as we discussed threats of terrorism, war in the Middle East, temples crumbling/or being blown to smithereens, and any number of cosmic realities including climate change with its accompanying doomsday predictions. Certainly Luke's listeners, who faced persecution after the fall of Jerusalem in 70 A.D., had nothing on us. Nevertheless, Jesus tells his followers, "Do not be terrified!"
What a challenge! And yet what an important one, especially in light of the fact that the Greek word translated here as "terrified" is found in only two places in Luke, the other being Jesus' post-resurrection appearance to his disciples (Luke 24:37). Supposing Jesus to be a spirit, the disciples were terrified, and so to reassure them Jesus shows them his hands and feet. He shows them his wounds, revealing that they need not fear, for the wounds of his death have become a testimony to new life. "Neither betrayal, brutality nor death itself should terrify you," says Jesus, "for hatred, betrayal and death are never God's final word."
His words are not meant to provide us with tools to persecute and condemn one another, as some hellfire-and-brimstone preachers might think, nor to provide clues as to when the world will end, as others suggest. Rather, Jesus' words are meant to remind us that even in life's darkest moments we are to trust in God, knowing that God is with us. And this isn't easy. It's easier to think, as we read headline news or face our own frailties, "Yep, looks like the end of the world to me." The truth, though, is that human history is nothing if not an account of personal struggles and worldly disasters, and our Christian history nothing if not assurance of God's presence in the midst of them. Indeed, Jesus tells us that such events are not signs of God's absence but places of God's deep and abiding presence.
They're likewise places where we are challenged to be the presence of God - to feel something and commit something of ourselves for our faith. After all, faith is nothing but a word - nothing but air - until it is put into action, which Jesus knew when he said that by our endurance we would gain our souls, that we would take hold of life. Moreover, he knew that God would take hold of us, raising up things which had been cast down and making new, things which had grown old. Such change is powerful but can also be frightening, and so Jesus tells us, "Do not be terrified," knowing that fear only deepens wounds and heightens our sense of loss. Faith, on the other hand, assures us that God is with us turning wounds into signs of victory, and endings into new beginnings in Christ.
Amen.
Let us pray.
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.
Amen.