DATE: February 9th, 2014 — Annual Meeting
SCRIPTURE: Psalm 112:1-9; Matthew 5:13-20
©Rev. Alison J. Buttrick Patton
Seabury Center
“Let me tell you why you are here.” It’s one of those most persistent, provocative questions, isn’t it – Why are we here? It lurks behind nearly every religious debate: this question which is about origin and meaning, identity and purpose. Let me tell you why you are here. Are we here to achieve? To invent and advance? Are we here to exercise our minds, to see how far they will take us? To explore the stars and the ocean depths?
Are we here to love? To mine the depths of human emotion and connection; to plant tomatoes, write poetry and sing songs? Says the poet William Stafford, “Sometime when the river is ice ask me mistakes I have made. Ask me whether what I have done is my life…” 1
Are we here to speak truth and right wrongs? To defend and be defended? To form and transform, dismantle walls and hand-craft communities? Am I here because you are here? Or despite it?
Does any of it matter at all? Or are we merely bundles of cells, so many heart-beats in a lifetime, a blip on the screen? In the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes, little 6-yr-old Calvin stands outside and looks up at vast, star-studded night sky. He calls out: “I am significant, cried the dust speck.” Are we just dust specks?
Let me tell you why you are here. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel said, “Our goal should be to live life in radical amazement… get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal. …To be spiritual is to be amazed.” 2 So according to Heschel, we are here, at least in part, to admire God’s handiwork. In the words of the psalmist: “Those who honor the LORD, who adore God’s commandments, are truly happy!” To honor. To adore. Other translations read to revere and to delight.
Consider, for a moment: when have you been amazed? [Close your eyes; sift through your memories…] When has life stopped you in your tracks, brought tears to your eyes, made you laugh out loud, caused your mouth to water or your heart to skip a beat? When has God done that? The 2014 Winter Olympics began this week in Sochi, Russia, bringing with them visions of vast, snow-covered mountains, stunning landscapes and the spectacle of opening ceremonies. Did you watch? There was a regal, tall-masted ship that appeared to sail across an arena transformed into a turbulent sea; glowing horses that cantered across the sky; dancers that spun around the floor in illuminated costumes. I do love the pageantry – for its beauty, yes, but also for the technical and artistic ingenuity on display. Who came up with that, I wonder, as each scene unfolds; what inventive engineers, what inspired minds?
But I am equally amazed by the firm grasp of a new-born baby and by the tiny green shoots that inexplicably appear in my vegetable garden every spring; by the wisdom and passion that can be generated in any small group of people, and the powerful human bonds that can form across lines of difference. I delight in the snow that blankets our front lawn right now, and in the labyrinth that my husband Craig carved out of the drifts. In between snowball fights and massive sculpting projects last Monday, my kids and I stopped to walk that labyrinth in snowy silence. I am amazed at the unexpected ways that the Holy interjects itself into ordinary life.
What about you? When have you been amazed? And how have those moments shaped your faith? Have you got at least one story that you can conjure up about being surprised or touched by holy mystery? Now ask yourself this: When was the last time you told that story to someone else, maybe even someone outside church?
David Brooks quoted Rabbi Heschel’s line about radical amazement in a recent op-ed column on faith: how faith is regarded vs. how it is experienced. Because, you see, there is often a disconnect between the two. You’ve heard it before; we’ve talked about it here: ask non-church folks, those who do not affiliate with any community of faith, and they are likely to describe religious folks (in David Brooks’ words) as “judgmental,” “hypocritical,” “old-fashioned” and “out of touch.” These are folks who see church as dusty and dogmatic – not a source of amazement at all, maybe even the place where mystery and wonder go to die.
The truth is, even many of us who attend church resist the label. “Sure, I’m here, but I’m not really religious.” I’ve heard those words repeatedly, as recently as this week. Religious people ‘know the Bible’; they are ‘certain’ about what they believe (we say), which, in my experience, is not how lots of us (including me) think about ourselves. To be clear: I am not wagging my finger here, making fun or suggesting that any of us ought to be or feel more ‘religious.’ On the contrary: I am intrigued by the frequency with which we all struggle to find the right words to describe this journey we’re on: this spiritual, faith-ful, doubt-laden, well-intended, service-driven or prayer-centered, tender-hearted, precarious journey.
And I wonder, if we don’t think of ourselves as ‘religious’, then what got us through that door, and what brings us back every week? Could it be holy amazement? Or something more subtle: a tug, a curiosity, a thirst? I don’t know about each of you, but it has been my observation that many folks, including those who don’t go to church or don’t want to be labeled as religious, crave meaning, connection and deep encounter with the Holy. We want to be amazed.
So here’s the Good News: Jesus did not tell all those people gathered on the hillside to be dusty and dogmatic. “You are Salt.” He said. “You are light! So let it out!” This faith thing, it’s not about being certain, it’s about being transparent: transparent like a window or like cellophane wrap, showing forth the wonder of God in our lives…revealing the God-colors and God-flavors! I once heard it suggested that churches should all have glass doors, because folks are more likely to venture in if they can see what’s inside. Be like that, Jesus said: let people see what’s inside you! In the words of the Message again: God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill.
…Which might just mean telling some of our stories to the people who are not here. Because if the statistics are right, then our amazement may not be shining through just yet; and the folks who aren’t here may well be wondering why in the world we are.
I know: Talking about our faith, about church, it can be awkward, right? Where do we start? How do we avoid sounding, ya know, like that kind of Christian – the know-it-all, religious Christian who wants to arm-twist you into coming to church? Well, you could try this: instead of focusing on what you are not (as in: not religious, or rigid, judgmental or bored), start with what you are: Are you grateful for something God has done? Inspired or challenged by something you’ve experienced in church? In love with the people but not sure about Jesus? In love with Jesus but not so sure about the people? Curious or grappling or transformed in some way? Talk about that. In other words: You could start by saying, “Let me tell you why I am here.” I once heard a Christian start a conversation like this: “Tell me about the God you don’t believe in. Chances are, I don’t believe in Him either.” And if talking about God feels too hard, try talking about wonder: about that baby that grabbed your finger; those snow-capped mountains that take your breath away, human ingenuity, and the Spirit you suspect inspires it. Share an ordinary-extraordinary moment that made your heart skip a beat or your eyes water. Then, and this part’s important: invite your conversation partner to do the same. Because if you are light and salt, then so are they. Between us, we might just amplify that radical amazement about which Rabbi Heschel spoke. Between us, we may just discover that God really is up to something within us and among us, something we can’t bear to overlook.
Maybe it’s a bit like the Olympic torch: we pass it hand to hand, casting light across the landscape. That light, getting to carry it, is an honor. And once you’ve got the torch in hand – once you realize you’ve been chosen to carry it, as we’ve all been chosen, well: you can’t just stash it away. The torch is on a journey; and we – we are the light bearers. So sisters and brothers, shine! Where there is sadness or skepticism, shine, where there is fear or distrust, shine! Where there is hunger for hope or thirst for connection… tell your story about sharing bread and living water. In the end: Being salt and being light, it isn’t about showing off, it’s about showing God: There! And there! – In your life, and her life and his and here, right here: joyful, surprising, amazing … grace. So spread the word! Thanks be to God. Amen.
Scripture Texts
Psalm 112:1–9 — Common English Bible Translation
1 Praise the LORD! Those who honor the LORD, who adore God’s commandments, are truly happy! 2 Their descendants will be strong throughout the land. The offspring of those who do right will be blessed; 3 wealth and riches will be in their houses. Their righteousness stands forever. 4 They shine in the dark for others who do right. They are merciful, compassionate, and righteous. 5 Those who lend generously are good people— as are those who conduct their affairs with justice. 6 Yes, these sorts of people will never be shaken; the righteous will be remembered forever! 7 They won’t be frightened at bad news. Their hearts are steady, trusting in the LORD. 8 Their hearts are firm; they aren’t afraid. In the end, they will witness their enemies’ defeat. 9They give freely to those in need. Their righteousness stands forever. Their strength increases gloriously.
Matthew 5:13–20 — The Message Paraphrase
13 “Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You’ve lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage.
14 “Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. 15 If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. 16
Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand – shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven. 17
“Don’t suppose for a minute that I have come to demolish the Scriptures – either God’s Law or the Prophets. I’m not here to demolish but to complete. I am going to put it all together, pull it all together in a vast panorama.
18 God’s Law is more real and lasting than the stars in the sky and the ground at your feet. Long after stars burn out and earth wears out, God’s Law will be alive and working. 19″Trivialize even the smallest item in God’s Law and you will only have trivialized yourself. But take it seriously, show the way for others, and you will find honor in the kingdom. 20 Unless you do far better than the Pharisees in the matters of right living, you won’t know the first thing about entering the kingdom.