Renunciation –Cleaning Out the Closet– Ephesians 4:17-29

        

Ephesians 4:17-29

 Now this I affirm and insist on in the Lord: you must no longer live as the Gentiles live, in the futility of their minds. They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of their ignorance and hardness of heart. They have lost all sensitivity and have abandoned themselves to licentiousness, greedy to practice every kind of impurity. That is not the way you learned Christ! For surely you have heard about him and were taught in him, as truth is in Jesus. You were taught to put away your former way of life, your old self, corrupt and deluded by its lusts, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.

 So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     This is the last of the RE word sermons. Graham has preached on resurrection, redemption, reformation, reconciliation and rejoicing.  Now along I come with the last of the RE words, renunciation. YIKES. That is a mouth full. If I ask you to renounce someone or something, how does that make you feel?  Horrible? Mean spirited? Self-Righteous?  On a scale of one to ten what is your comfort scale with this word?  Probably a low 2. Renunciation sounds like a terrible wrenching experience, like getting your teeth drilled.  That is why Renunciation needs a rehab.

         I started to think about “renunciation” and here is what came to mind, The Committee on Un-American Activities, witch-hunts, persecutions and The Spanish Inquisition.  “NO one expects the Spanish Inquisition. Their chief weapon is surprise, No Surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... Their two weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... No their three weapons are fear, and surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope.”  You get the point despite Monty Python’s spoof, no one likes the Spanish Inquisition and no one likes renunciation.

         This word has lots of calcified old baggage. We see renunciation as being judgment and rejection.  How could such an ugly word be associated with Christianity?  Well unfortunately judgment and rejection are part of what humans do to each other. This is the sin part of our nature playing out. And some Christians have latched onto this error. But that wasn’t how it was meant to be. Renunciation was a spiritual practice and a call to examine our lives. Renunciation flowed out of the monastic movement and it came from scriptures just like Ephesians 4. In Ephesians 4 we hear a call to put away an old life that doesn’t lead to Christ. Renunciation is about putting away old maladaptive behaviors. It is not about condemnation, judgment or rejection. Our problem starts with the definition of renunciation.          Renunciation has two definitions the first is denial or rejection: a denial or rejection of something or somebody. The second definition is a declaration giving something up. We are called to give up something.  But we are never called to renounce someone. Renunciation is never in the bible as a renunciation of people. Ephesians 4 calls us to put away our former way of life, our old corrupt self and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to clothe yourselves with the new self. It is a spiritual closet cleaning so that we can be free.

         Picture a life where you never give up anything you have ever had or any thing you ever were.  This is hoarding.  Who has watched the cable TV show Hoarders?  Hoarders are people who cannot let go of anything. They acquire and collect and save and stack and pack and accumulate until they are paralyzed. They squirrel and stash until they are in danger of avalanche in their own homes.  Hoarders are living a slow death of suffocation in possessions. Hoarders are driven by fear.  If they let that thing go of their stuff who will they be? If they let go of that thing, maybe they won’t have enough. If they let go of that memento of love, maybe they won’t have enough love. Hoarders fear loss so much that they can’t let go. Renunciation is all about letting go of past behaviors, old mental junk, old ways of doing things, old maladaptive behaviors. If you are intent upon growing in faith you are keen to renounce anything that gets in the way of following God. We are asked to let go of anything that possesses us, hinders us or stunts our growth. 

         One of the things that characterize a hoarder is that they are paralyzed. They can’t move in their home because of all the junk.  They can’t have relationships or other interests because they are too obsessed with their stash. They are not just paralyzed they are petrified. That word is true in both its definitions.  They are petrified in the meaning that they are immobilized by fear and they are petrified in the meaning of taking something living and growing like wood and turning it to stone.  In our passage from Ephesians, Paul writes that the same thing was happening to “The Gentiles.”  The Gentiles were trapped in the futility of their minds. What a perfect turn of phrase for what we all experience when we are spinning in confusion, trapped in the futility of our minds. Paul writes that, "their understanding was darkened because of the hardness of their hearts." The Greek word is porosis, which refers to a stone harder than marble. If the ancient Greeks wanted a really stylish kitchen they would order porosis countertops. But porosis also has a medical meaning that helps us see even deeper into this hardness of heart.  Porosis means a callus that forms from a broken bone that is reset and poorly healed. How important it is for us to understand that this particular kind of hardness of heart often comes from the places that are broken in our lives.  Too often we try to set our own bones and our attempts at self healing end with this hardness or callused porosis.  So that the broken place can no longer move because of the terrible hardness.  This porosis of the heart means that they could no longer feel. They had lost all sensitivity or freedom of motion. This is the kind of awful stuff we are to renounce.  We are to let go of all the callused petrified old self to allow more tender self to grow.  Renunciation is a good thing. Renunciation isn’t a horrible judgment it is a cure to this hard heart and this paralysis.

         Renunciation is a Christian practice. The New Members who joined to day were asked to renounce sin and its power in the world.  What a good thing.  Renounce; let go of things that make you sick.  Renounce or let go of the things that hold you petrified in fear.  The new members then went on to answer two other questions. Now that you have let go of the old stuff can you embrace the new stuff?  Can you accept Christ and be part of the Body of Christ the church.  If we are asked to take on something new we need to create the space for it.  If you are called to speak the truth in love, you have to clean out the closet of lies.  If you are called to reconcile and forgive, you need to sweep out the anger. If you are called to put on new clothes you need to take off the old ones.  There is no sense putting on a great new outfit over some sweaty old clothes.  Layering the new on the old doesn’t work so well. 

         Let me give you some examples.  Suppose you worked at Glade Run Home for Children, a school for kids with a lot of problem. You see a kid and noticed he seemed to have on 3 or 4 T-shirts, and then a sweatshirt and a sweater. And you look more closely and it seems that there might be a second pair of pants just sticking a little up from the top of his outer pants.  You will start watching that kid very closely. That boy is layering, which is putting on all these layers of clothes.  That kid may be thinking about running away.  So that when that kid runs and hits the streets that boy will have some a change of clothes.  If you see an adult on the street and he is wearing layer upon layer of clothes. That guy may well be homeless. Layering is a warning of something wrong. Layering doesn’t work very well.  Hoarding doesn’t work very well.  We need to discern what to clean out, what to renounce.         

         But how do we do this?  On the front of your bulletin is a quote from Henri Nouwen that shows great insight into the process of renunciation.  

 

"To be able to enjoy fully the many good things the world has to offer, we must be detached from them. To be detached does not mean to be indifferent or uninterested.  It means to be nonpossessive. Life is a gift to be grateful for and not a property to cling to.

A nonpossessive life is a free life. But such freedom is only possible when we have deep sense of belonging.  To whom then do we belong? We belong to God, and the God to whom we belong has sent us into the world to proclaim in his Name that all of creation is created in and by love and calls us to gratitude and joy. That is what the “detached” life is all about. It is a life in which we are free to offer praise and thanksgiving."   Henri J. M. Nouwen, “Bread for the Journey”

Now I want you to think of renouncing the power of things over you as detaching.  Nouwen doesn’t use the language of renunciation, but uses the word detachment.  In the sense that both renouncement and detachment are letting go the meaning is similar. Nouwen says freedom is only possible if we belong. Fully realizing we belong to God allows us to let go of the stuff that holds us prisoner.  Do you remember the vow you made this morning to new members?  You promised to accept, guide and nurture.  That means you promised to help these new members to know that they belong.   We all have a part to play with each other.  If we are all going to go home this afternoon and clean out our spiritual closets, let go of the things that keep us stagnating and keep us from growing, we need each other’s help. We need to encourage each other. To say in a 1000 ways, you belong. This is a place where love is spoken. This is a place where you don’t need all your armor and layering.

         So you have some homework before Pentacost Sunday next week.  Did you notice I didn’t tell you what you have to renounce?  That is your homework.  Think about three things you need to let go of, three things you need to renounce. If you take a Sunday afternoon nap set out a pen and paper before your nap and ask for guidance. Then nap, but when you awake jot down three things to let go.  If you are going to a sports event, bring a scrap paper and do the same thing. 

         If you are going to receive something from God you need open hands.  So what do you need to empty to make some room for God?

                                                        Amen.

"RE" Words: Rejoice

Click Here to Listen to This Sermon

1 Thessalonians 5:12-22

May 13, 2012

But we appeal to you, brothers and sisters, to respect those who labor among you, and have charge of you in the Lord and admonish you; esteem them very highly in love because of their work. Be at peace among yourselves. And we urge you, beloved, to admonish the idlers, encourage the faint hearted, help the weak, be patient with all of them. See that none of you repays evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to all.

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise the words of prophets, but test everything; hold fast to what is good; abstain from every form of evil.

I want to start by talking about one of my spiritual heroes.  My hero is Corrie ten Boom.  I’ve talked about Corrie many times before because so much of her life is an inspiration.  She lived the kind of life I believe that God calls us to live—a life of faith, hope, and love no matter what happens.  Corrie ten Boom grew up in the city of Haarlem in the Netherlands.  When she was in her mid-50s the Nazis invaded and occupied the Netherlands, subjecting everyone to their cruel rule.  She and her family were watchmakers, and Corrie filled her days with selling and repairing watches.  She was a humble and spiritual woman, focused mainly on serving God in her everyday life. 

When the Nazis began rounding up Jews, Corrie and her family were asked by some people they knew if they would be willing to hide Jews.  The family prayed about it and sensed God calling them to do so, and so they did.  They had a fake brick wall built on the second floor of their cramped row house, and behind it twelve people could hide for a short time if the Gestapo came around until they could be spirited out of the city and into the country. 

They hid Jews for about a year until they were discovered and arrested by the Gestapo.  From there, Corrie lived the nightmare of imprisonment, solitary confinement, and eventual assignment to the Ravensbruck Concentration Camp.  Life in the camp, as you can imagine, was awful.  Hundreds of women were cramped together in dormitories, sleeping on hard wooden palates covered with straw, shoveled in from local horse farms.  The straw was filled with urine and fleas. 

Corrie and her sister, Betsie, felt a calling to make life as good for others as they could.  Miraculously, they were able to smuggle in a Bible (it was verboten by the Nazis, and if found with the Bible they could be killed).  Each day, using the Bible, they conducted large worship services in which they would read passages in Dutch, and other women would translate the sentences in French, German, Russian, Polish, English, and the other languages of the prisoners.  There was one thing that mystified them.  They couldn’t figure out why the Nazis were letting them do this.  They must of have known, yet they did nothing.

One particular day Corrie was really struggling with their situation.  She had had it, and tearfully complained to her sister that she couldn’t take it anymore.  Betsie tried to console her by quoting the scripture they had read during worship this morning, which was our passage for this morning.  Betsie said to Corrie, “Remember what the passage said this morning:  ‘Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances…”?  Corrie replied, “Yes, but I can’t rejoice and give thanks for the fleas, Betsie.  That’s too much.”  Betsie responded, “God didn’t say to rejoice and give thanks only for certain things.  God said to rejoice always, and to give thanks in all circumstances.”  Corrie said, “But how can I give thanks for the fleas?”  Betsie responded that God knew what God was doing, and to trust and give thanks, even for the fleas. 

It was a struggle, but Corrie tried.  Several months later they discovered how God had used the fleas.  A trustee from the camp overheard a conversation among the guards.  She found out that the reason the guards left them alone in their barracks was that they were afraid of getting fleas.  So the fleas were keeping the guards both from abusing them even more, and allowing them to worship and pray in the midst of the terrible conditions.  When Betsie heard this, she said to Corrie, “See Corrie, it’s what scripture says.  Give thanks even for the fleas.”

Corrie’s story shows the power of what I call the holy “triple pray:” rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances.  Corrie’s and Betsie’s ability to hold onto God in prayer and gratitude laid the groundwork for a constant joy that they both demonstrated in the concentration camps, and Corrie demonstrated throughout her life.  She went through experiences that made many survivors bitter and cynical.  Corrie never held onto that pain, and, in fact, she spent the rest of her life trying to relieve the pain of both concentration camp survivors and the former Nazis.  She lived a life of joy, prayer, thankfulness, and forgiveness.  People who knew her said that Corrie had an incredible joy for the rest of her life, and nothing could diminish it. 

I’ve seen this in others.  Adrian van Kaam, whom I studied with at Duquesne University, and a former Dutch resistance member himself during World War II, had this same kind of joy.  He was a Catholic priest who lived his life teaching and counseling others.  A friend of mine saw him about a year before he died, when he was beginning to struggle with some form of dementia, and she mentioned to him that she couldn’t believe how positive and joyful he was, even in the face of dementia.  It is hard to see such a brilliant man struggle with the loss of his memory and thinking.  He said to her, “Yes, but just because the mind goes doesn’t mean the heart has to follow.”  He understood that we can keep a joyful heart no matter what we face.

I’ve seen this same kind of joy in members of Calvin Church—people who have gone through very difficult times, but seem to keep a sense of joy.  These are people who do pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances, and find a way to rejoice no matter what.

We are called to be a people of joy—to be a people who rejoice.  The word “rejoice” literally means to “joy again.”  Rejoicing means to continually return to joy no matter what happens in our lives.  To be these kinds of people requires that we lay a foundation.  We can’t rejoice unless we also lay at our foundation another set of threes—what I call the “holy triad,” which is found in 1^st Corinthians 13: faith, hope, and love.  Paul says, “And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.”

This holy triad is foundational to the holy triple pray.  When we have a deep faith, we go beyond just believing in God.  We put our trust in God.  We surrender ourselves to God.  And that’s the foundation of hope.  Because we trust in God that much, we know in our hearts that the future will work out and that things will be good in the end.  We hope because we have faith.  And because we have faith and hope, it gives us the openness to love.  We become open to God’s love working in and through us.  This becomes the foundation for unceasing prayer, gratitude, and joy. 

I saw this holy triad leading to rejoicing in my uncle Peter.  He died about four years ago.  A few years before he died, we spent time with him and my aunt, Mary Gaines, on vacation on Cape Cod, where they lived.  One night at dinner, while Diane had the girls outside playing with flashlights Peter, Mary-Gaines, and I had an inspiring conversation (at least it was for me).  I had asked both how they had gotten through all of their difficulties with their faith intact. 

You see, they both had gone through difficult times.  My uncle Peter’s first wife had died when his kids were 8, 6, and 3.  It was hard on him.  He finally did put his life back together, with the help of Mary Gaines, who he married about 8 years later.  Mary Gaines had gone through a difficult marriage, and, as a committed Catholic, had to make the difficult decision to divorce her husband.

The more recent struggles all began about six years before we saw them on Cape Cod. Peter’s voice had become horse, and the doctors weren’t sure what the problem was.  They explored his throat and found some polyps and decided to excise them.  This left him unable to speak for several months.  When he was finally able to speak again, the hoarseness was still there.  Further exploration detected more polyps, and so more surgery was required.  He recovered, but the problems persisted.  And they were getting worse.  I’m a bit sketchy on the exact details, but in the end they had to do a permanent tracheotomy, which meant he could no longer talk because of the hole in the front of his throat.  Following the surgery he was unable to eat.  His meals consisted of pouring cans of nutrients directly into his stomach through a tube.  Can you imagine what this must have been like for them?  But he never let it get him down.  Speaking was also tough.  He had a voice machine, but because the radiation treatments left his neck hard and fibrous, he really couldn’t use it.  So he spoke by mouthing words. 

To top it all off, Peter was continually struggled with skin cancer from years of exposure to the sun as a shooting instructor in the Marines at Paris Island.  The day after Diane, our children, and I got to Cape Cod for that vacation, he had to have major skin surgery on his nose.  They had to remove the skin from the top of his nose, and graft a piece of his forehead on top of it because of cancer on his nose.  Later, he kidded about the surgery, saying that whenever he had an itch on his forehead, to take care of it he had to scratch the tip of his nose.

The thing that was amazing is that despite all of this, he and Mary-Gaines always remained so positive.  In response to my question about how they had gotten through everything with their faith intact, they told me that, first of all, every morning they got on their knees and prayed.  Prayer was a foundation for them.  They also were adamant that despite the difficulties, they recognized how much God had blessed them.  They didn’t see what was wrong.  They saw what was right.  They looked around at their four children and ten grandchildren, the beauty of where they lived, and so much more, and saw it all as good.  And that led them to a sense of joy, despite their struggles.  In their conversation with me, Peter also said something very profound.  He said that at one point Mary-Gaines had told him that she was having a hard time praying.  He told her that the struggle to pray was the ultimate prayer.  It’s not important what you say.  It’s important that you try.  It’s when you pray to God in desperation that you are truly coming to God.  It’s when you pray to God even when it’s tough to do so.

What allowed both of them to rejoice was their ability to be hopeful, to trust God, and to focus on love. 

            I want to close with another story, one another Nazi concentration camp survivor, Elie Weisel, told in his book Souls on Fire.  Weisel is well known for his reflections on life in the concentration camps.  His book, Night, should be required reading for almost everyone.  It is a brutal, but profound, book on what it was like in the camps.  Another of his books, that’s also powerful, is the book Dawn, which is about his return to normal life after being released from the camps, and how much of a struggle it was to feel normal again.  Souls on Fire is a different kind of book.  It’s a book that chronicles stories of the faith of Hassidic Jews in Poland and Russian throughout the 18^th and 19^th centuries.  The Hassidic faith is a mystical sect of Judaism. 

            He tells a story about a new rabbi coming to town.  This rabbi was succeeding the previous rabbi, who had been in the community for thirty years.  That man had been a learned man, a scholar.  He had gravitas.  He rarely smiled, and he stooped from years of studying the Scriptures and the Talmud.  People knew they could go to him for problems, and he would give them deep answers to their questions.  He was respected, admired, and esteemed.  Now they were getting a young rabbi.  Could he measure up?  What would he be like?  Would he also be austere and severe like their holy rabbi?  So many questions.  So much concern. 

            The day came when the rabbi appeared.  They had a gathering for him so that he could meet the townspeople, his flock.  They peppered him with questions:  “How much do you study the holy Scripture and Talmud each day?  Are you a learned man, and how could you be if you are so young?  Can you help us with our problems?  Will you be like our previous rabbi?” 

            The young rabbi listened to their questions, but didn’t respond right away.  Finally, he asked them all to be quiet.  In the hushed silence, and with a sly smile, he began to hum.  As he hummed a tune, he began to tap his right foot.  Then his left foot.  Slowly he began to sway to the music, and as he did, some of the other townspeople swayed with him.  The tune was infectious, and it gained in intensity.  He began to dance, and as he did, a few picked up the steps and began to dance with him.  As his dance gained in intensity, he began to swing his arms.  He grabbed the hands of those around him, and soon they were all dancing together.  A few ran home, grabbed their instruments, ran back and played along with the tune.  Eventually, all were caught up in the dance.  Then he stopped, and they stopped.  He looked at them with a smile, and said, “Are there any more questions?” 

            He taught them the lesson of joy.  He was going to be a rabbi who did all that rabbis did, but he was also going to be a man of joy who would teach them to rejoice in God. 

            We are called to be a joyful people, a people who radiate joy.  Are you this kind of person?  do you have this kind of faith?

            Amen. 

"RE" Words: Reconciliation

Click Here to Listen to This Sermon

1 John 4:7-21

May 6, 2012

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us. By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit.

And we have seen and do testify that the Father has sent his Son as the Savior of the world. God abides in those who confess that Jesus is the Son of God, and they abide in God. So we have known and believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.

Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness on the day of judgment, because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. We love because he first loved us. Those who say, “I love God,” and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also.

A friend of mine told me a story about a Methodist pastor’s experience in a Northern Pennsylvania church fifteen years ago.  It was the pastor’s first worship service as the new pastor of a church.  As a Methodist, as is their custom, he had been sent there by the bishop with little notice.  The previous pastor had only been gone for two weeks, and knowing that the congregation would be a bit flummoxed by losing their longtime pastor and getting a new one, all in the space of four weeks, the new pastor wanted to make sure his sermon was full of love, care, and hope. 

After he finished his sermon, he went to the back of the sanctuary to shake everyone’s hands as they walked out.  This was a church with a large center aisle leading to large double doors.  There were also doors leading out of the sanctuary at the back left and right.  He stood at the center door, waiting to shake everyone’s hand, but only about ten out of the 80 or so in attendance came to him.  The others went out the side doors. 

            What had he said that was so bad?  This was among the least controversial sermons he had ever preached.  Did he do something wrong?  Finally, he asked one of the members what was going on.  “Ah, the big butter controversy,” replied the man.  “Didn’t anyone tell you about it?”  “The big butter controversy?  What’s that?” asked the pastor.  The man then proceeded to tell him about something that happened a long time ago. 

            Thirty years before, the church had had it’s big harvest celebration dinner.  Being a farming community, many brought food from their farms.  One woman (we’ll call her Maybelle) churned a lot of butter, bringing it to share.  After the dinner was over, everyone cleaned up and left.  The unused butter was left behind.  Another woman (we’ll call her Kelly Sue), worried that it might spoil since the church didn’t have a refrigerator.  So she took it home with her.  A little while later, Maybelle came back to get her butter, but it was gone.  She was convinced that Kelly Sue had taken the butter because she was always jealous of her butter-churning skills.  So, she complained to her relatives in the church about what Kelly Sue had done, and everyone in her family took her side. 

Kelly Sue’s family, seeing that she was being attacked, took her side against Maybelle and her family.  The church became split, but being a family church they weren’t willing to leave and go somewhere else.  So on Sunday mornings the family and friends of Maybelle went out one door, and the friends and family of Kelli Sue went out the other.  Fifty years later the split still remained, even though all the original people were dead and no one really remembered the reason for the feud anymore. They weren’t even fighting anymore.  But the remnants of the fight still existed.  It’s amazing what can divide Christians against one another.  It’s amazing how easily divided we are by things big and especially small

Conflicts like these are common in so many churches.  And it’s these kinds of conflicts drive so many people away from church.  Christianity is held to a higher standard today by non-Christians than it ever has.  People outside of the church know that we preach love, humility, compassion, and being non-judgmental.  So when they see any of us acting out of anger, ego, selfishness, and being judgmental, they turn away. 

The irony is that walking away from church doesn’t make a person more loving, compassionate, humble, or non-judgmental.  If you really think deeply about the great butter controversy, you realize that it’s not just churches that get divided.  People are constantly divided—families, communities, companies, country, and nations.  We live in a divisive age in which relationships are disrupted all over the place, whether we are talking about churches, families, or the community, division is everywhere

Think about some of the most popular reality television shows—Dance Moms, Survivor, American Chopper, Real Housewives of Whatever city, Jersey Shore, and all the rest.  They are popular because television executives know that conflict and division sells.  We’ve become a shallow culture, an entertainment culture, and it nurtures division.

The irony of all our conflict is that it is our ability to cooperate that has allowed human beings to rise above all other animals.  As a species, humans have little of the self-protective or hunting skills of other animals.  Our teeth are small and our jaws are weak.  Our nails are brittle.  We’re not very fast.  We’re not very strong.  We don’t even camouflage well, yet we’ve risen above all other animals.  The reason is our ability to cooperate.  We cooperate better than any other species in ways that lead to innovation and that allows us to overcome all obstacles.  Yes, I know that ants and bees cooperate better on a massive scale, but not in ways that overcome problems and obstacles.  For example, when our habitat is threatened, we either adapt or change our habitat.  Ants and bees die.  We are divided, but what has allowed us to dominate the earth has been our ability to cooperate creatively.

Despite church butter controversies, Christianity does promote love, yet it is also very realistic about the ability of people to love.  Christianity calls people to unity, communion, and commitment to community, yet at the same time it knows people have a hard time doing these.  So Christianity also teaches reconciliation.  Reconciliation is as important as love because it promotes the idea that we can always love again. 

To understand what reconciliation really is, it helps to look at the origin of the word.  The word “reconcile” comes from the Latin, reconciliare, which is a combination of “re”(again) + “conciliare” (bring together).  It means to “bring together again,” and in the word itself is an understanding that division and conflict between people exists. Reconciliation is a return to relationship.  The Bible emphasizes reconciliation constantly.  It’s not so much in the teachings as it is in the stories.  A tremendous number of stories are about reconciliation. 

For example, the story of Joseph in Genesis is a story of reconciliation.  Joseph’s brothers did something terrible to him, selling him into slavery, which led not only to Joseph’s enslavement, but eventually to his imprisonment.  But in the end, after Joseph had become wildly successful, instead of exacting revenge on his brothers, he forgave them and reconciled with them.  The story of David and Bathsheba is one of reconciliation between David and God, after David had done something terrible in having Bathsheba’s husband killed in order to marry Bathsheba.  The story of the Prodigal Son is one of reconciliation in which the father both reconciles with and restores his estranged son.  Jesus forgives and reconciles with Peter, even after Peter had denied him three times.  And on the cross, Jesus reconciles with everyone, at least from his part, by saying on the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” 

Christianity recognizes that while people are called to love, they will still divide and engage in conflict.  Yet God is always calling us back to reconciliation.  And there are basic principles of reconciliation we can follow if we want to live a life that’s open to reconciling.  Let me share three with you.

First, reconciliation begins with humility.  To reconcile with another, we have to have a willingness to put away our pain, anger, and bitterness to be open to God’s love.  The fact is that very few of us will go through life without experiencing some sort of relational pain.  To overcome that pain, especially when it has been inflicted on us, we have to be able to put aside our ego and recognize that it’s not all about me.  To overcome conflict I have to be willing to say, “I can’t force that person to take responsibility for what she or he did to me, but I can take responsibility for what I’ve done, even if what I’ve done isn’t that much.  I can take responsibility for harboring resentment, bitterness, anger, and for not doing what I can to reconcile.” This kind of humility is one that opens us to God’s love by letting go of our anger, bitterness, and bile. 

Second, reconciliation is fed by forgiveness.  We forgive when we are willing to give the gift of letting go to another.  I know that forgiving others is hard, especially when we have been deeply hurt.  Most people don’t realize that forgiveness is literally “giving forward a gift.”  When we forgive, we give the most precious gift we can give another, which is to give them something undeserved.  We give them the gift of not holding against them what they have done to us.  Forgiving is not the same as forgetting.  But it is a gift we give freely to another who may have done nothing to earn that gift. 

It is popular among many Christians to say that we cannot forgive till another person has repented.  That’s a fallacy.  If we demand repentance, an apology, we are asking that person to pay for our forgiveness.  Forgiving is a gift, and it is ever more powerful when it is given without an apology or repentance. 

Finally, reconciliation is completed with otherness.  To reconcile we have to let go of “me” to become open to “we.”  Reconciliation means turning our attention away from MY pain, MY hurt, My-self, and turning toward another and saying, “I’m going to make you matter more than me.”  It’s when we learn to let go of “me” to focus on “we” that we begin to live lives pregnant with the possibility of reconciliation.

I want to close with a story that I think captures these three principles.  It’s a story that a mentor of mine, Jack Hodges, told me.  Jack was the senior pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Murrysville, Pennsylvania when I served there as an associate pastor.  Jack told me about something that happened when he was the pastor of a church in Oregon. Apparently there were two women, Nancy and Linda, who had developed a strong distaste for each other. They both were longtime members of the church, and at one point had been good friends.  But then something happened.  They had a disagreement with each other and could no longer stand the sight of each other. 

This was difficult for the church because both were very involved in leading the church.  They often served on the same committees.  When one would come up with an idea, often the other would contradict it just for spite.  The division in them was causing a minor division in the church.

All of this changed one day during a worship service.  Jack had preached about forgiveness, and then afterwards led communion.  He said that he noticed Linda and Nancy glancing at each other during communion.  During the prayer after communion, Nancy stood up and walked down the side aisle. Then Linda stood up on the other side of the sanctuary and walked down the other aisle.  They met in the back of the sanctuary.  Jack wasn’t sure what would happen, and worried that they might start fighting.  He saw Nancy lift her arms, and then Linda lift hers.  They hugged and forgave each other.  Jack told me that this was one of the most amazing things he has ever witnessed. And it is no coincidence that this happened during communion.  Communion is a sacrament that is rooted in Jesus’ forgiveness after his body was broken body and his blood was shed.  It is a sacrament of forgiveness. 

They reconciled because they became humble, forgave each other, and focused on each other rather than themselves. 

We’re called to a different standard from those who live in and of the world.  We’re called to be in the world, but not of the world, which means we’re called to be better than the world.  We’re called to be a humble, forgiving, other-oriented kind of people.  We’re called to become the kind of people who make reconciliation possible

Amen. 

"RE" Words: Renewal and Reformation

Click Here to Listen to This Sermon

John 20:19-29

April 29, 2012

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

Do you recognize this phrase?  Ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda!  You should.  Well,… maybe you shouldn’t, but it is a phrase that lies at the heart of what it means to be a Presbyterian.  It’s a phrase used not only by John Calvin at the time of the Protestant Reformation, but it was coined by Martin Luther and became a catchphrase for much of the Protestant movement of the early 16^th century.  It defined what Protestants believe, and it was a shot against the Roman Catholic Church of the time. 

The phrase, “ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda” means “church reformed, always reforming.”  Sometimes the phrase has a longer form, which is “ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda, verbi dei.”  The additional phrase means, “according to the word of God.”  Basically, the idea behind this phrase is a recognition that we Protestants, and especially we Presbyterians, are a church that was reformed back in the 16^th century, but that always remains open to God’s continual reforming.  We were renewed, and we are always undergoing renewal.

The phrase was a critique of the Catholic Church of the time.  The Reformers had seen that the Catholic Church never changed.  The church was doing things the same way in 1500 that it had in 500 A.D.  The result was that the church had built up defenses to maintain those ways, which included not letting lay people read the Bible for themselves or think for themselves when it came to religious matters.  So, the Protestant reformers reformed the church to allow the laity a greater role in the life and faith of the church.  But that wasn’t enough.  Reformers like Luther and Calvin believed that the church had to always be open to future reformation.  It had to be open to what God was saying today, and to adapt the church to modern realities.  We can’t stay in the 16^th century.  We have to be open to sharing Christ and the Holy Spirit in a world that’s always changing. 

As Presbyterians, this idea of reformation that leads to renewal lies at the heart of what we say we believe.  Reformata, semper reformanda isn’t just a church idea.  It’s an idea for us as individuals, too.  It means that as a church and as individuals we are never complete.  In other words, the moment we as a church, or as individuals, believe that we have arrived—that our understanding of God is adequate, that our faith is complete—that’s the moment when we have turned away from God.  To be a Christian means to be constantly open to being reformed and renewed. 

For us Presbyterians, we understand that reformation and renewal are at the center of what it means to be a Christian.  We understand that Christians aren’t meant to have it all figured out, to be perfect, or to never falter or fail.  Instead, we are called to be people who are ready to grow all the time.  We’re called to take our mistakes, our failures, and our misjudgments and to become like Thomas with them.  We’re also called to learn new things, especially those new things that God is leading us to discover through new experiences.

I doubt that you are like me in this, but the apostle Thomas is one of my biblical heroes.  He gets bad press all the time because of what he said in our passage for this morning.  To be called a “doubting Thomas” is a bad thing, but this doubting Thomas ended up being the most courageous of all the apostles.  And Christ sent him on the most dangerous mission of all the apostles.

After the Day of Pentecost, the apostles gathered together and cast lots to decide who would go where to spread the Gospel.  Andrew was sent to the region that is now Armenia.  Peter would stay in Jerusalem (and eventually move to Damascus and then Antioch).  Later, Paul would go to what is now Turkey and Greece.  Others were sent elsewhere.  Thomas was given the lands that are now Pakistan and India.  Thomas did not want to go to, complaining, “I don’t want to go.  I’m not healthy enough.  I don’t speak the languages.  It’s too dangerous.  I’m the wrong person.  I’m not going.”  His refusal changed one day when he met Jesus in the marketplace.  The tradition says that Jesus told him that he wanted him to go to India.  Again, Thomas complained.  So Jesus approached a traveling merchant in the marketplace named Abbanes and sold Thomas to him as a slave.  He told Abbanes that Thomas had the carpentry skills he needed.  The price was agreed upon, and Abbanes approached Thomas and said, “Is that your master over there?” pointing to Jesus.  When Thomas said yes, Abbanes, said, “He has just sold you to me.  You are now my servant.” 

First as Abbanes’ servant, and later as a free man, Thomas spread the Gospel in what is modern-day Pakistan, settling in the Indus River valley.  From there he moved south and preached throughout India.  It was a difficult mission because many parts of India were ungoverned and dangerous.  Over the course of twenty years, Thomas faithfully traveled throughout India, spreading the Gospel.  He eventually settled near Madras, where he was tortured and killed because of what he was preaching.  The church started by Thomas, the Mar-Thoma Orthodox Church, still exists today, and has about 2.5 million members world-wide. 

Thomas, even though he doubted, also served with tremendous courage in places that were dangerous.  Thomas is my hero because he points the way to being an “authentic” Christian.  He is the model for the struggling Christian who has doubts and questions, but never lets them get in the way of coming to God.  Thomas’ doubts and questions led him to constant renewal and reformation.  He constantly became a new man because of his willingness to grapple with faith. Thomas had questions, which led to doubts, which led to seeking, which led to answers, which led to growth, which led his renewal and reformation, which led to him doing amazing things

Each of us is called to live a life of constant renewal and reformation, just as our church is called to constant reformation and renewal.  The problem is that so many people resist growth. We don’t want to grow.  We don’t want to change.  But whether we like it or not, growth is inevitable.  That’s the rule of life:  nothing remains constant.  Our bodies are a great example of this.  I’ve read that the cells of our bodies die and are renewed every three to five years.  We are constantly being renewed and reformed as human beings.  We might not like that reformation as we get older, but it takes place whether we like it or not. 

When I think of renewal and reform, especially as a Christian in every day life, I can’t think of a better example of this than R. A. Dickey.  Do you know who he is?  Dickey is a pitcher for the New York Mets.  In fact, he’s a very rare pitcher.  He’s the only knuckleballer actively pitching in the major leagues.  Last year he was one of the best pitchers, having compiled the thirteenth lowest ERA in the major leagues. 

The knuckleball pitch is incredibly difficult to learn how to do well, which is why there are no other knuckleballers in the major leagues.  When it is pitched well, it is virtually unhittable.  When it isn’t pitched well, it leads to home runs.  Most other pitches are pitched with the first two fingers stretched over the top of the ball.  A fastball is a pitch in which the pitcher throws with force, forcing the ball to leave the fingers spinning furiously backwards, which causes the ball to move through the air with little friction.  A good fastball goes between 90 and 100 miles an hour.  When throwing a curveball, the pitcher lets go of the ball by twisting his fingers to the side, creating both a backwards and a sideways spin.  That causes the ball to curve.  Most other pitches are variations of these two.  The knuckleball is their opposite.  The knuckleballer digs his nails under the horseshoe of the ball’s stitches in such a way that the nails to the first knuckle rest atop the ball.  The thumb and ring finger are on either side to stabilize the ball.  Then the pitcher lets go, with the result being that there is almost no spin on the ball.  A good knuckleball will spin no more than a quarter turn between the pitcher’s mound and home plate.  The result of having no spin is that the ball is unpredictable.  It goes up, down, and side-to-sde, depending on the wind conditions.  A good knuckleball pitch goes only about 60 to 70 miles per hour.  When it’s thrown well, it makes batters look foolish, often causing them to swing before the ball even gets to the plate.  You can imagine that batters hate knuckleball pitchers. 

R. A. Dickey took a long path to becoming the dominant knuckleballer he is today.  As a high schooler he was a phenom.  He was a can’t-miss prospect.  Scouts fell in love with his fastball and his other pitches.  He was drafted 18^th overall in the first round of the 1996 draft by the Texas Rangers.  He was expected to sign a four-year contract for $4 million and a $1 million signing bonus.  Unfortunately it was found, during his medical examination, that he did not have a key ligament in his elbow.  They didn’t want to take a chance on him.  He went from can’t-miss multimillionaire prospect to the pitcher no one wanted.  He was devastated.  A few months later the Rangers did make an offer:  a standard minor-league contract with a $75,000 signing bonus. 

From there Dickey toiled in the minor leagues for 12 years.  He eventually became known as a four A pitcher.  What’s that?  It means that you are too good for triple A baseball, but not good enough for major league baseball.  You’re a pitcher in limbo. 

At age 31, realizing he had to do something to realize his dream of becoming only a major league pitcher, he decided to learn the knuckleball.  It didn’t go great.  He would alternate between being wildly successful and just plain wild.  He continued to go back and forth between the major leagues and AAA baseball. 

Things changed dramatically in 2006 when he had a baptismal experience of sorts.  He was pitching for the Oklahoma AAA team, and they were playing the Omaha Royals.  The hotel they stayed in had a glass elevator that overlooked the Missouri River.  Every year they stayed there, Dickey looked out over the river and wondered if anyone had ever swam across it.  He decided that this was the year he would do it.  He told his teammates about his plan, and they all gathered by the river as he plunged in and started swimming. 

He learned three things about the river very quickly.  First, it was filthy, and you couldn’t see more than an inch in front of you underwater.  Second, it was incredibly swift moving.  Third, there was a heavy undertow.  He swam furiously for about five or ten minutes, thinking that he must be most of the way across.  When he looked back to see where he was, he realized that he was barely halfway across, and that the current had taken him ¼ of a mile downstream.  He was now in danger of drowning. 

He tried to swim back to his side of the shore, but soon it was obvious that he wasn’t going to make it.  In utter exhaustion, he stopped and decided to give the river his life.  He prayed for God to take care of his wife and kids, and he slowly sank.  He said that it was a weird experience to weep underwater.  As he prepared to suck into his lungs the water that surrounded him, giving himself over the death and to God, his feet hit bottom.  That rejuvenated him.  He pushed back up to the surface, and using a combination of doggy paddling and pushing up from the bottom, he made it back to shore, where a teammate dragged him out.  He was a changed man. 

Before he went into the river, he had a 1-4 record with a 6.80 ERA.  From that point on he finished the season 11-2 with a 2.80 ERA.  The next season he made it to the major leagues for good.  It wasn’t just his pitching that changed.  So did his attitude about life.  He began to treat life more as precious, living completely in the moment.  This impacted his pitching because instead of worrying about the strike count, who was batting, or what the score was, he focused on each pitch as something special.  All that mattered was the pitch, nothing else. 

In his life, he started seeing a counselor to help him unshackle his life from the physical and sexual abuse he had experienced as a child from a babysitter and an older boy.  He worked on his marriage and other relationships, learning to trust others now with the burdens of his life.  And he focused more on trusting God.  He was renewed and it led to a reformation of his life.

Whether it has to do with growing in our understanding God, or growing in how we live life, we are called to constant renewal and reformation.  I have a phrase that I’ve applied to the life of a church, but I think it’s just as applicable to our lives, too.  “If we aren’t growing, we’re dying.”  I believe this about churches, and I used to say this a lot in the first few years I was here at Calvin Presbyterian Church.  I believe that if you are just trying to stay where you are, you are engaging in the first steps of moving toward death.  I think nature backs me up in this.  Look at any plant or tree.  It is always growing, and the moment it stops growing, it begins to die.  We are called to constant life through renewal and reformation. 

The question for us is which direction we’re moving in?

Amen.