Sermons

Sermon Series

I would like to tell you about a book. It is available in the library across the street – or it will be as soon as I get this copy back later today. The book is entitled Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy.

You remember the unbelievable tragedy that occurred in the Nickel Mines, Pennsylvania Amish schoolhouse in October 2006. Five girls fatally wounded and five others seriously wounded.

It was difficult to watch the news stories related to this event, but it was also interesting to hear the story shift. Soon after the tragedy was reported we began to hear reports of forgiveness extended by the Amish families toward the perpetrator and his family.

The scripture lessons for today all speak of forgiveness, something that is highly un-American. In fact, our culture cultivates a climate of revenge rather than one of forgiveness. You see the billboards everywhere: “Spill hot coffee on yourself while driving? No problem, we will help you get big bucks from McDonald’s. How negligent of them to sell their coffee hot. And to make you drink it while driving your car.”

The scripture lessons for today remind us that the Christian faith is often at odds with the current culture. That has always been the case, and it is certainly true today. Especially when it comes to the idea of forgiveness.

Let’s look at forgiveness for a few minutes. Forgiveness is difficult for all of us. Forgiveness takes time. Forgiveness is a process. Forgiveness involves a number of steps, and each step in the process is necessary for genuine forgiveness to occur.

First, some things that forgiveness is not. Forgiveness is not denial. Forgiveness is not pretending the offense never happened. Forgiveness is not sweeping feelings under the rug to keep peace. Forgiveness does not mean settling for the status quo when the status quo brings injury. Forgiveness does not mean tolerating abuse or injustice. Forgiveness does not mean our goal is to be best friends with the person who hurt us. Forgiveness does not always lead to reconciliation.

However, forgiveness does lead to freedom. Forgiveness means finding a way to cope with injury, with hurt, with painful experiences someone else has caused. Forgiveness means finding a way to move forward and let go of our grudges.

We hate to let go of grudges – they make us feel so special and so superior to the one who has offended us. Being self-righteous is like a soft drink: they taste so good, but they have no food value whatsoever. Actually, scientific research is quite clear: grudges are dangerous to our health. Forgiveness is liberating; forgiveness allows us to go forward with greater freedom and less stress.

1. First step in forgiveness is acknowledging the injury we have received. At times the injury is real: someone has deceived us; someone has betrayed our trust; someone has cheated us; someone has hurt a person we love. The injury is real.

However, some injuries are not really injuries. The issue is not that we were hurt by an injustice. The issue is that we did not get our way.

So it’s important to take stock of the injury we feel we have experienced. Is it real, or is just our self-centeredness that causes us to perceive an injury when there is none?

2. Forgiveness begins with a decision: The decision to move toward forgiveness if we are able; the recognition that forgiveness is a good idea, even if we can’t imagine how we will get there. In other words, the desire to forgive always comes before the ability to give. Some of us don’t want to forgive; it feels like we are the righteous one and the other doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Sort of like cutting off our nose to spite our face.

3. After the first step, the decision that we would like to forgive, there is usually a time lag. Often, the time between wanting to forgive and feeling like we can do so is far greater than we wish. We can be willing to forgive, but we can’t push it along – we can’t force it to happen. WE CAN delay it, by licking our wounds and dwelling on our indignation, but we can’t speed up forgiveness.

Forgiveness is like a broken bone. No matter what we do, it is going to take a certain amount of time for the broken bone to heal. Our task is to decide we want to forgive when we can get there, and then to wait for the bone to heal.

4. Forgiveness is not always permanent: it comes and goes. Some days we feel like we have moved out from under the cloud of resentment and grudge – like a breath of fresh air. At other times, often without warning, the cloud comes back and we feel like we are back where we were months or years ago. That is part of the process. Our task is to acknowledge it, and to remain committed to the decision to move forward as we are able. We move forward by leaving our heart open; by leaving our mind open.

4. Forgiveness is often easier if we invest the energy to consider things from the other person’s point of view. This does not mean dismissing the injustice or excusing it; but it does mean taking some time to at least be curious about the other person’s perspective and action. We can’t always know the other person’s point of view or motives for their action, but at least giving it some thought is a helpful process.

Out of time. Can talk about this some other time. The main point is that forgiveness is central to our faith. Forgiveness is central to our spiritual and emotional health. And forgiveness comes one step at a time. Our task is not to jump from here to the finish line; but to take small steps in that direction.

When we read a story from the Gospels, especially the 4^th Gospel like this long passage we just heard, it’s important to keep one question in mind: What is the author’s point? Why is he telling his audience this story, and what does he hope they will gain by hearing it?

It is fair to say that the point of the story is more important than the story itself. In other words, the gospel writer picks and chooses the stories he will use, and his choice is guided by the point he is trying to make.

In the 4^th Gospel there is never just one point. There is an overarching purpose, and each story supports this purpose. However, each of the stories has more than one point.

The overall point driving this particular Gospel is Jesus’ uniqueness as one who reveals God to the people. This story about Lazarus is the 7^th in a set of stories the author uses as signs to demonstrate his point. Over and over he drives home the central message: “Jesus shows God to the people. Have no doubt about it: watching Jesus and listening to Jesus will tell you a lot about God – will tell you a lot about what is important to God.”

To make this point the author of John talks about Jesus coming from some other realm, being one with God, and returning to his original realm above. Whoever Jesus is, whatever Jesus is, the author of John says he is bigger than life.

> The author of John wants his audience to believe that life is more than meets the eye. Life is more than humans can understand. This idea of Jesus coming from somewhere else and returning to that place after his death is the author’s way of saying that human life is part of a bigger context.

The years between birth and the grave are not all there is. Yes, there was a time when we were not. Yes, there is coming a time when we will no longer be. But this time between our coming and going is part of a larger mystery that is hidden and beyond our ability to grasp. That’s the first point.

> Here is the second point: The author of John portrays this story about Lazarus as a final turning point in Jesus’ relationship with the Roman and Jewish authorities. The power structure had been closing in on him, and the author of John’s Gospel sees this visit to the grave of Lazarus as the final straw. Things have reached a tipping point, a point of no return, and the elimination of Jesus is inevitable.

The event itself was not noteworthy. Lazarus was not a prominent figure. Stories about religious teachers raising people from the dead were not uncommon at all. The authorities were worried about some sort of uprising and disturbance that could bring unwelcome attention from Rome. But I think there was a larger issue than job security.

The larger issue was related to their worldview. Most people are pretty attached to the way they see the world. When someone challenges that point of view, there is usually trouble. Just think how many wars and how much abuse in history are related to differences in world view – differences in what God is like and what God is called.

Instead of “live and let live,” the attitude has often be “agree with me or die.” The crusades, the Inquisition, the so-called holy wars, terrorism throughout the world; those who bomb women’s clinics chanting about the sanctity of life; the list goes on and on.

You have probably noticed the same thing I have about such extremism. If I am truly comfortable with my beliefs, your beliefs are not a threat. They are merely your beliefs, just like my beliefs are mine. We may both be wrong. We may both be right. We can be tolerant of each other’s point of view; there is an opportunity to hear each other – perhaps even learn from each other.

But when we people perceive other peoples’ beliefs as a threat, we can be sure they are trying to hold onto something that is shaky already. Rather than listen and learn, the temptation is to close their mind or run away. They deal with the doubt inside by avoiding or getting rid of anyone outside who stirs up that doubt.

Even those of us who are not extremists are tempted to close our minds to things we really need to hear. If something or someone really disturbs us, we would do well to examine why. What lesson am I trying to avoid? What wisdom and I resisting? What is making me uncomfortable?

We usually conclude that we are uncomfortable because we are right and the other person is wrong. “What a stupid idea,” we say. Now, some ideas that seem stupid really are. But often we have a knee-jerk negative reaction to something different -- a knee-jerk reaction that keeps our minds closed and keeps us traveling in the same old ruts.

We have a choice: we can open our minds and see if there is something to be learned in another point of view. Maybe there is, or maybe there isn’t. But if we are not willing to take a look, we will never know for sure. And we will spend our lives traveling in the same old ruts that are much too deep already.

The question has been asked thousand of times, in every generation: “Why is this man blind?” “What caused it?” “Whose fault is it?” “Why do these bad things happen?” “Why me?”

As a priest and as a counselor I have heard the question hundreds of times, “Why did this bad think happen to me?” People struggling to deal with tragedy, striving to make some meaning out of upheaval in their lives. It is often a difficult and perplexing dilemma.

In all those years there is another question I have never heard: ”Why me? Why did this good thing happen to me?” I did not deserve this promotion. I did not deserve this inheritance. I did not deserve this opportunity?

Apparently we operate with an assumption that remains hidden most of the time: we don’t deserve the bad things, unpleasant or painful things in life. But we obviously do deserve the good things

This hidden assumption creates a double dilemma when something bad happens: we are faced with something we don’t want; and we are faced with a challenge to our view of the world. We are wounded by hardship or sorrow, and we are disillusioned because these events don’t fit our view of how life should be.

When the wife of CS Lewis died, Lewis found himself asking many of these questions. The one that plagued him most was the question of why he was suffering so much. He had only been a Christian a few years, and he assumed that having faith would make bereavement easier. It did not. Years later he discovered that his disillusionment was caused by his illusions. He came to understand that being a person of faith would not protect him from hardship—that being a person of faith would not reduce the pain of a terrible loss.

In the Gospel reading for today we find another dramatic story that the author uses as a sign to demonstrate Jesus’ uniqueness. In fact, this particular sign is # 6 in a series of 7 that the author of John’s Gospel links together.

Like all of John’s stories, this one begins in one place and ends in another. The story begins with the disciples passing the man on the road, and asking Jesus the “why” question. Is this man’s blindness due to something he did, or something his parents did?

Jesus answer is simple. “No.” The man is blind because he is blind. But his blindness provides an opportunity for God’s grace to be seen by all.

Jesus’ personal uniqueness was revealed in this story in a number of ways. First of all, a man blind from birth, gains his sight. This is what Jesus spent all his time doing – helping people see the light. According to the Gospels, a few of them were blind physically, but almost all of them were blind spiritually. Their eyes were out of focus, and they were dwelling on things that did not matter. No wonder they needed someone to help them see.

We also see Jesus’ uniqueness in healing someone on the Sabbath. This man had been blind for years, and Jesus could have healed him tomorrow just as easily as today. Why the Sabbath? The Sabbath because Jesus didn’t think working on Saturday was a big deal. The people were sticklers for Sabbath observance, but Jesus reminded them that observing the Sabbath without really understanding why was a waste of time.

Jesus did something very helpful: he confused the people. Some said he must be a bad guy because he healed someone on Saturday. Others said, he can’t be a bad guy because only good guys can heal people. So off they went to wrestle with this contradiction. Any time life gives us a contradiction it is like offering us a course in deeper thinking – a course in deeper living.

But there’s always a group who don’t want to think at a deeper level. They don’t want things to change; they don’t want new information; they certainly don’t want to hear anything that challenges ideas they are so comfortable with.

In this story the man born blind becomes the teachers’ teacher: the religious teachers say “this healer Jesus must not be from God.” The man who was healed says, “he has to be from God. Who else but God could provide sight to the blind?”

As often happens when folks hear things they don’t want to hear, run away or squelch what they hear. They ran the man off rather than wrestle with what all this meant.

Finally the Pharisees get up enough courage to talk with Jesus himself. They start out talking among themselves. Then they go to the blind man’s parents. The parents tell them to talk with their son – he’s an adult. Don’t ask us. Ask him. They go to the man who was healed, but don’t like what he had to say. So finally they address Jesus:

“Are you saying that we are blind? Surely you don’t mean that. How could you say we are blind? At least a few of the Pharisees came to him and asked the question. The rest just went on their way and dismissed the whole event as a sideshow of some kind.

The few who did ask Jesus what all this meant were people on the way to deeper wisdom. I have been intrigued at some of the material I have read lately from a variety of Buddhist teachers. Intrigued by the breadth of this ancient wisdom, and intrigued at how similar many Buddhist teachings are to the teachings of Jesus.

The entire story in the Gospel lesson today is a great example. On the surface the problem appears to be the man’s blindness. At a deeper level, however, the problem is bigger than one man’s blindness. The problem is the blindness of the entire community – the entire community is bent out of shape because its expectations are not met. An entire community suffers because of its illusions.

The community that would rather hang onto a rigid worldview rather than learn something new. The community had a choice: would they live on the surface and travel in circles. Would they continue to expect the world to operate by their ideas, and complain when it didn’t? Or would they give up their illusions? Would they allow their minds and hearts to see new things? Would they be willing and able to live in a larger world tomorrow than the world they knew yesterday?

That is a question we all face, day in and day out. Regardless of the choice we make today, we will have another chance, Whether we open our eyes and move forward, or close our eyes and look away – whatever our choice today, life will give us another opportunity to decide again – tomorrow, the next day, and the next.

Many of you know that our grandson Arthur was born 3 months ago. This week we received an email with a video of Arthur lying in his crib. He was looking up at a brightly-colored mobile hanging over the mattress, and he decided to reach for it. As he reached for it, he was distracted by the sight of his own hand. You could see the puzzled look on his face, “What is this? Where did it come from? Look, I can make it move.” A few days earlier he was not ready for this discovery, and by now it is old hat.

It is always fascinating to watch children develop and learn. Those of you who are parents and those who are teachers have had the wonderful experience of watching others make important discoveries about themselves and about life. Therapists and counselors often get to witness similar wonders as people discover things that change their lives.

When someone makes such a big discovery about himself or herself in particular, and about life in general, we can be sure of 3 things about this person:

First, this new insight indicates that changes have already been at work in the person’s mind and heart, leading him or her to this new discovery. The wisdom was out of reach a few months ago, a few weeks ago, perhaps even earlier today. But now it is available. This new insight, this new information, is available because of changes that have already happened within the person, preparing the way for this new discovery.

New discoveries, new insights, are like mile markers along the highway: guarantees that you have traveled quite a ways, that you are in a new place.

Second, this new insight, this new wisdom, changes the person even further. Genuine discoveries expand our mind, our heart, our vision. As people make new discoveries they have greater energy; the look different, they act differently, they dress differently, they stand differently, the inter act with others differently. They transfer this new wisdom to other circumstances and their learning expands even further. It is like watching a flower blossom after a spring rain.

And finally, the person who comes upon a new insight about himself or herself is on the threshold of something else new. The new insight becomes a door for future new discoveries. The new discovery becomes a path to additional wisdom. The new insight helps us see even more new things we could not see before – like mountains hiding behind the foothills.

In the Gospel reading for today we see Jesus making profound discoveries about himself and the direction of his life. The story we just heard about the struggle between Jesus and the devil comes from an unknown source. Each of the gospel writers uses the story in his own way, so the details vary from one account to the other. The basic story, however, is the same.

The enlightenment experience of Jesus in the wilderness follows the pattern I outlined earlier. He is able to gain new wisdom because of changes that are already at work in him. His baptism was a profound experience. He went down to the Jordan River that morning to listen to John the Baptist; it seems like he was ready to join John’s community as a disciple, but he came away from the baptism headed in a different direction. He came away from the baptism with a deep sense of call – a strong sense of vocation. Even though he was not clear about what all this meant, he was clear that things were no the same that afternoon as they were when he got up that morning.

This new insight changed him right away. When the spirit led or pushed him or drove him into the wilderness, he went straight away. His had must have been spinning, and a retreat to the woods was exactly what he needed. Without hesitation he heads for a remote and isolated place to think about what is happening to him and what it might mean. He needs to figure out how he feels about it, how he understands it, and what it means for his future.

And, as soon as he gets to the wilderness he is confronted with an array of new insights. Like most insights, these new discoveries come through hardship and challenge. In all of these temptations Jesus wrestles with questions about who he is going to be, what he is going to do, and why. If you have plodded your way through a midlife upheaval or a crisis of identity, you will recognize this wilderness and these temptations. If you have seduced by glitter and bright lights to follow a path to nowhere, you will recognize this wilderness and these temptations.

The baptismal experience had upset Jesus’ emotional and spiritual equilibrium. Just as you and I would do, he sought to regain his balance. But lots of new thoughts and new feelings had entered the picture. He could ignore or dismiss all of this, but what was he to do with it?

The first temptation was to make himself feel better. To do something that would be satisfying and gratifying. If you scratch this itch the right way, it will go away. Drown this discomfort with a little food and wine. Have a party. Have another party. Have a bigger party. Buy something new. Distract yourself. See how busy you can be. See how much you can acquire. Pursue things that give you good feelings. That will take care of the nagging discomfort, at least for a little while.

The second temptation is just as seductive. If you can’t silence this uneasiness by your own devices, let others help you. Jump off the temple at rush hour and let everyone watch as the angels set you down gently on the ground. Your reputation will soar; you will be known far and wide. If everyone else thinks you are special, you must be. Fame takes care of everything. People will recognize you everywhere you go; your name will be a household word. Life will be easy then, and you won’t have to worry. If you are feeling unsure, what you need is a few thousand cheerleaders pumping you up.

The third temptation is just as seductive as the first two. Let’s see, Jesus, you are not interested in over-indulgence. You are not interested in being adored by others. How would you like to be King of the World? You can be in charge of everything, if you will just give up your soul in return. Power solves all sorts of problems. And when you are in charge, look how much influence you can have – how much good you can do.

The inner wisdom that led Jesus into the wilderness raised a red flag about each of these temptations. He knew that short cuts are never what they seem. He knew these shortcuts had nothing to do with the vocation that was taking shape in his heart and mind.

The struggle Jesus faced in the wilderness is remarkably familiar to modern people. In surveys and opinion polls we hear that millions of people are interested in spiritual matters. They recognize an inner longing, a longing that makes them uneasy and curious.

The longing lets us know there is more to life than we have discovered thus far. But, the longing also makes us uncomfortable, and we want the discomfort to go away. We are tempted to find something quick and easy to make us feel better.

Temptations and short cuts are everywhere: greed and self-indulgence, popularity, power. Advertisers spend billions of dollars trying to convince us we are empty, inadequate, and unhappy. That buying their product will take care of those empty feelings. It never works, but we just keep buying and buying, hoping the next new thing will make the difference we need.

The story of Jesus in the wilderness offers us two final lessons: First, the experience took a long time: 40 days and 40 nights. In the Bible 40 is a double symbol. We see it in Hebrew scripture where the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for 40 years. And Noah who endured the rain of 40 days and 40 nights. This number 40 means two things: it is a symbolic reference for a “long time,” and for “a time of struggle and testing.” So when you read in the Bible about 40-something, you know it was a lengthy period and a period of struggle.

Spiritual wisdom and depth are never quick and easy. Clarity about one’s vocation and one’s identity take a long time. They develop gradually over decades of careful attention. Anything that offers us a quick and easy resolution to our spiritual longings is naïve at best, and probably worth very little.

The second lesson, the second thing we see in the story about Jesus on the mountain is also interesting. According to Matthew, Jesus brought with him to the wilderness a helpful source of wisdom. Wisdom he had acquired throughout childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood. When he is tempted to consider simplistic and dangerous shortcuts, he falls back on the resources of his faith tradition. He falls back on Hebrew scripture, especially the passages where Moses instructs the Israelites about how they are to live in the Promised Land, in their new home with God.

Jesus knew the stirrings within him were important. He knew his decisions were critical. He knew the vocation taking shape in his mind was spiritual calling. It was connected in some way with the scripture lessons he had heard all his life. He knew his religious tradition would help him sort out the important questions he was facing.

That’s why religious education is so important. Corporate worship is crucial, especially for Anglicans; but we need more than worship. We need to learn from scripture; we need to learn from the traditions of the church. We need to learn from each other.

On this first Sunday of Lent Matthew’s Gospel tells us about a remarkable period in the life of Jesus – a time of paying attention. A time of new wisdom and new clarity about himself.

During Lent the liturgies and customs of the church invite us to pay special attention to our own spiritual journey – to open ourselves to wisdom and clarity about where we are and where we are headed. Religious instruction and conversations with others are vital to us, just as they were to Jesus. Spiritual resources and other people help us pay attention to where we have been, to where we are, and to where we might be going.

The spiritual journey is impossible by ourselves. We need friendship from each other. We need encouragement from each other. We need to hear the wisdom that has become clear for others. Their wisdom and our own wisdom will open new doors to help us pay greater attention and to learn even more. Otherwise, we will keep wandering in the wilderness trying one short cut after another, all to no avail.

You may have heard the ancient story about a man riding a horse really fast through his village. People jump out of the way, and a friend yells, “where are you going in such a hurry?” He yells back, “I don’t know. Ask the horse.”

An ancient story, but a modern parable: We often feel like we are on a run-away horse, going much too fast in a direction we have not chosen. And even if we are headed in a direction we HAVE chosen, it often feels like things are out of control and moving much too fast. When the horse decides which way to go and how fast to travel, that is a dilemma.

Like most dilemmas in life, the dilemma of the runaway horse is also an opportunity – an opportunity to learn something important. How did I get in this predicament? Is this where I was headed? Is there where I want to be? Am I living in a way that is best for me? The apostle Paul, along with other wise people, often said, “Thank God for my troubles. Despite the agony, these troubles have been my teacher.”

Recognizing we are in a predicament is like receiving an engraved invitation to learn something about ourselves. How did I get to this place? What can I learn from the pickle I find myself in? There is wisdom here if I am willing to take a close look and to learn from what I see. I may need the help of others to figure it out, but there is gold here if I am willing to sit with the dilemma and learn.

At times the wisdom seems to come quickly. But usually it has been germinating under the ground like a seed long before we can see it clearly. But it is always worth the wait.

Some ancient teachers had a name for the dilemma of the runaway horse. They said the horse, like our lives, is driven by “habit energy.” Habit energy has to do with those things we do without much thought. Ruts we are in. Choices we make without even realizing we have made a choice. If we wish to develop wisdom, looking at this “habit energy” that drives us is a good place to start. What are my habits? My habitual way of thinking or behaving? Does my habit energy take me where I want to go, or do I act automatically without much thought? How does my habit energy cause me to interpret things one particular way when lots of other interpretations are possible?

When I begin to ask questions like this, I am on the path of wisdom. “Why in the world did I do that?” “Why do I always see the glass half empty when it is also half full?” Or “why was I not paying attention?” These questions help us get down from the horse and put ourselves in the right direction.

In the epistle reading for today Paul talks about this path. When God’s spirit is active in our lives, he says, things that are hidden will be brought to light. Being people of faith means disabling our automatic pilot. Being people of faith, being wise people, means paying attention and learning from what we notice. And making some intentional choices that will serve us better, choices that will foster our emotional and spiritual growth.

If we pursue things that are unimportant, we find ourselves surrounded by things that have little ultimate value. We devote our time, energy, and money to things that serve us poorly – things that distract us from what really matters.

In the Gospel reading Jesus warns the disciples about focusing on things that do no good. Fretting and worrying have little benefit, he says. If we fret about tomorrow we miss out on today. However, if we strive for the kingdom of God – if we pursue those things that really matter, we will end up in the right place.

Someone has estimated that 95% of our mental energy, 95% of our thought processes have to do with the past or the future. Re-living things in the past, wishing they could have been different or clinging to good memories. Rehearsing for the future – what will I do, what will I say, will I have what I need? Some of that energy is helpful. We can learn from our past. We plan for the future rather than leaving it entirely to chance.

But, we also waste a lot of energy looking back and looking ahead – energy that could be put to good use in the present moment. And we waste a lot of energy, as Jesus told the disciples, worrying about things that don’t deserve a lot of attention.

Several decades ago Reinhold Niebuhr was professor of practical theology at Union Seminary in New York. He was a very public figure who advocated and worked for human justice during the industrialization of America. He was keenly affected by both World War I and World War II, and participated in the civil rights movement of the 1960’s.

Out of his own faith experience and his attempts to promote justice, Niebuhr wrote a prayer that sounds familiar to most of us: a profound prayer that is rich with wisdom. This prayer is clearly written by someone who paid attention to the dilemmas of his life; someone who put his dilemmas to good use; someone whose faith made a profound difference in how he understood life and how he lived. Niebuhr wrote:

God, give us grace to accept with serenity
the things that cannot be changed,
Courage to change the things
which should be changed,
and the Wisdom to distinguish
the one from the other.

Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
Taking, as Jesus did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it,
Trusting that You will make all things right,
If I surrender to Your will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with You forever in the next.
Amen.

In the reading from Isaiah today we hear the prophet tell the Israelites that God loves them like a mother loves her newborn child; that their names are inscribed on the palm of God’s hand. If we could truly believe that, if we could really trust that, we could live in the present moment and focus on things that really matter.

God, give us grace to accept with serenity
the things that cannot be changed,
Courage to change the things
which should be changed,
and the Wisdom to distinguish
the one from the other.

Today we celebrate Holy Baptism as we help Ruby Marion Ingram begin her journey toward spiritual wisdom. Her parents bring her here today for two reasons: to commit themselves to teaching her about the Christian faith; and to ask your help in doing so. We give thanks for her, for her family, and for the opportunity to help her with this journey.

Would you like to be wiser? I think most of us would say “yes,” but before we sign on the dotted line, we may want to think twice. We may be fooling ourselves. We seem to have great affection for lots of unwise attitudes and behaviors, and we may not be willing to trade those for wisdom even if we have the opportunity.

Wouldn’t it be nice if wisdom were like puberty? Puberty comes without effort; it just happens. Gaining wisdom isn’t that easy. Gaining wisdom takes effort, and often involves hardship. Puberty is permanent. Once it has happened, it is done once and for all. Wisdom isn’t that permanent: it comes and goes.

This morning I would like to talk with you about wisdom as it shows up in our lives from time to time. We don’t have time for a top ten list: ten ways to know you are being wise. Since we don’t have time for the entire list of 10, I will just jump to number 1. “You know you are being wise when you agree with me.”

About the time we consider ourselves wise we should look out. Wisdom involves a good deal of humility, and when we think we have arrived, we may discover we have been on the wrong road.

In the scripture reading from Leviticus we meet the Hebrew people who have been on the road for a long time, weary from wandering in the wilderness. Now they are on the threshold of a new era and a new place.

Finally they arrive at the destination they have sought for an entire generation. If they had known it would take so long, many of them would never have started. WIDSOM IS NEVER QUICK AND EASY.

You can’t be wise unless you have been to the wilderness. HOWEVER, being in the wilderness does not guarantee wisdom.

As they stand in this new place Moses reminds them that this is not just new territory geographically. It is new territory spiritually as well. In this new place they are called to a higher caliber of living than they have known before. They are to be guided by a new set of principles. If they had known about these expectations, many of them would never have come.

IN SOME WAYS BEING WISE MAKES LIFE EASIER, BUT IN OTHER WAYS BEING WISE MAKES THINGS HARDER. Life is easier because we can trust our own experience, we trust our own judgment, our own view of things. Life is harder because simplistic answers no longer serve us well. We see both sides of things, and we see good and bad in both sides.

In the letter of Paul to the church at Corinth we find good advice about the life of wisdom. Paul urges the people to build their lives on a strong foundation of faith in Christ. He reminds the people that they belong to God. He reminds the people that forgetting they belong to God is unwise; it is foolish.

In the Gospel lesson from the Sermon on the Mount we hear Jesus reminding the disciples that they are entering a new land just like their ancestors did centuries ago.

In this new spiritual place they are guided by higher principles. The old and easy way will not serve them well. As people of faith they have gained a new perspective, and this new perspective should influence all they do.

I want to emphasize two things in this sermon today. I will probably say them several times, but they are worth repeating: IT IS WISE TO BE HONEST WITH OURSELVES ABOUT OURSELVES. AND, ? WE ARE BETTER SERVED BEING CURIOUS ABOUT OURSELVES THAN WE ARE BEING CRITICAL.

At times we are reluctant to look at ourselves because we are uneasy about what we might learn. We have a picture of ourselves that we carry in our mind, and we feel like we have to reject anything that contradicts that image.

If we are wise, we will take an honest look at ourselves to see what we can learn. Everything we learn about ourselves is helpful and friendly, whether we like it or not. When we are afraid of our feelings, we are not being wise. When we are ashamed of our feelings, we are not being wise. When we judge and scold ourselves, we are not being wise. It is wise to be curious about those things we don’t understand or don’t like. It is wasteful to judge and criticize ourselves.

SO LET ME SAY THAT AGAIN: IT IS WISE TO BE HONEST WITH OURSELVES ABOUT OUR FEARS, OUR CONFUSION, OUR ANGER, OUR DOUBTS, ALL THOSE THINGS WE LIKE AND THOSE WE DISLIKE. This kind of honesty is a great resource for learning and growth.

HOWEVER, IF WE KICK OURSELVES FOR OUR SHORTCOMINGS, WE LOSE THE OPPORTUNITY TO LEARN FROM THEM. INSTEAD OF BERATIING OURSELVES OR FEELING BAD, IT IS WISER TO BE CURIOUS: I WONDER WHY I DO THAT? I WONDER WHY I DON’T DO THAT? What can I learn from this situation?

Wise people are not easily offended. I’m easily offended when I think I should always have my way. ? When I think most things are somehow about me and what I want, I am disappointed and angry a lot. If I am wise, I will use being offended as an opportunity to learn more about myself and how I might grow.

Wise people don’t waste their time and energy holding grudges. Holding grudges is like trying to live with one foot nailed in the past. It is hard to move on, and we find ourselves traveling in circles because one foot will not move. If I am wise I will use my grudge as an opportunity to learn more about myself and how I might grow.

One last thing: wise people use resentment and tension as a mirror in which to see themselves. When we see something in another person that we don’t like we would do well to think of that person as a mirror, reflecting back to us some of the quirks we have trouble accepting in ourselves.

I need to stop for today. Remember that spiritual growth involves taking a close look at ourselves and learning from our reactions. Spiritual growth involves taking responsibility for our growth -- not assuming that life should conform to our desires, but figuring out more creative and resourceful ways to be people of faith as life comes to us.

I don’t know if little girls ask such odd questions, but I know little boys do. When they were little, both of my sons came to me with the same sort of goofy questions my buddies and I pondered when we were little.

“Dad, which way would you rather die?” And then they gave me a couple of gruesome options: choice A and choice B. I suppose that is a child’s way of beginning to think about the impermanence of life and about questions that have no good answer.

The author of Ecclesiasticus makes the choices a bit easier. “Which would you rather reach out and touch? Fire or water?” Not a hard choice. According to this wisdom literature, people have two options: choose obedience and faithfulness that will connect them with God’s wisdom; or neglect God’s wisdom and stumble through life on their own.

In his letter to the congregation at Corinth Paul talks about wisdom and spiritual growth. He concludes that they have gotten stuck in kindergarten: they have heard the good news of God’s love but it hasn’t made much difference in how they live. It hasn’t made much difference in how they understand themselves and the world.

In the Gospel lesson from the Sermon on the Mount we hear Jesus introducing to the disciples a new kind of wisdom. They have learned that they are not to murder. He warns them of the dangers of chronic anger. They have learned not to commit adultery. He warns them about the dangers of seeing each other solely as objects for our own use. He talks with them about the importance of commitment in marriage, especially in a day when men had many legal options and women had very few.

Woven through this sermon on the mount is the issue of wisdom. The issue is not “what are the rules,” but “what are the rules intended to help us see?” What kind of wisdom are the readers invited to discover?

Let’s go back to Ecclesasiticus for a moment: the choice between sticking our hands in fire or in water. The choice between being foolish and being wise. I would like to think with you about what it means to be a person of wisdom in our own day.

Wise people recognize that they are part of something far bigger than themselves. They may argue and debate about what that something bigger is, or they may give up trying to understand it and merely accept it as mystery. But no person can consider himself or herself wise without this view. We are part of something bigger than ourselves; life is more important than our whims and wishes.

In religion as we know it we give this something bigger a name: GOD. And we believe that Jesus revealed God to us in ways people could see and hear. And Jesus spent a great deal of time urging people to see that their lives were part of something far bigger and more complex than they were able to grasp.

? Wise people are interested in connecting somehow with that something bigger. Actually, it is more like accepting something than it is pursuing it. Our task is to trust that God love us without condition, and to accept that we are accepted. To discover that God loves the people we dislike, without condition. That God loves the people who hate us, without condition.

The ancient prophet Isaiah said God knew him before he was formed in his mother’s womb. Jesus told people that God knows exactly how many hairs they have on their heads, and that God knows when a single sparrow falls from the sky. These are beautiful poetic ways of assuring us that what happens to us is important to God; that if we choose we can accept the goodness and love of God for ourselves; that we can consider the possibility that God loves those people over there, even though we can’t imagine why.

WISE PEOPLE RECOGNIZE THEY ARE PART OF SOMETHING BIGGER THAN THEMSELVES; WISE PEOPLE STRIVE TO ACCEPT A CONNECTION BETWEEN THAT SOMETHING BIGGER AND THEMSELVES.

? Wise people learn to draw energy from their connection with the divine. We talk about this drawing energy in different ways. Some people call it being saved. Some call it being born again. Some consider it being enlightened. Some consider it a journey or pilgrimage of faith. Some consider it a classroom, a course in spiritual living. Some consider it an intimate relationship with a God who knows them better than they know themselves. Some consider it a vague mystery – but a mystery that brings energy and assurance to those who are willing to accept it.

All of these points of view have one thing in common: they recognize that we are part of something bigger than ourselves, that we are connected in some way to a benevolent God who seeks to touch us in loving ways, and that paying attention to this remarkable mystery will open for us a whole new world of wisdom resources we have not seen before.

If we are genuinely wise, we recognize that our thoughts and language will never come close to grasping this mystery. If we are genuinely wise we will realize that it could be no other way. Quite frankly, I don’t want to worship a God I can put in my pocket. I am not interested in a God who is like a heavenly bellhop: I ring the bell and God comes running to carry my bags. I am not interested in God as a genie in a bottle. I rub the bottle and God pops out to do my bidding.

I AM interested in paying attention to this something bigger than myself. At times my certainty about this bigger mystery is firm. At times it is shaky.

I AM interested in the sense of connection I have with this mystery too big for words. At times I am deeply moved when this mystery comes into my awareness. At other times I wonder where it has gone and why it has been gone so long.

I AM interested in the energy that I experience when I am able to trust this connection with God. It is not always energy that leads to action. At times it is energy that invites us to sit and be still, like someone would do in a lawn chair at the beach: to listen to the sound of the waves that have been hitting this shore longer than you can imagine; to receive the rays of the sun that have traveled 93,000,000 miles to warm the sand and to warm your face.

The sermon today is the second in a series of sermons about wisdom. If your thoughts wander from church to the super bowl, don’t worry. I feel sure I will repeat much of what I say today at some point during this series.

All of the scripture lessons for today have to do with wisdom. In fact, you may have noticed the thread that runs through all four readings. What would you call this thread that runs through all the lessons? (I see you looking at your bulletins). If I were going to give this common thread a name, it would be “for crying out loud, pay attention!”

In the lesson from Isaiah the prophet passes on God’s message to the people, “for crying out loud, pay attention!” You are cruising along like things are just fine, and they are not just fine. You go through religious motions to make yourselves feel good, but your religion is empty. True religion, true faithfulness to God, involves looking out for one another. Not just your close friends, but for everyone: the hungry, the fearful, the lonely. PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT YOU ARE DOING. PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT YOU ARE NOT DOING.

In the epistle Paul urges the Corinthians in a similar way. “You are trying to make this matter of faith too hard. Faith is about trust, not about lofty theology. PAY ATTENTION. REMEMBER THE EARLY DAYS OF YOUR FAITH WHEN YOU WERE SO SURE OF GOD’S LOVE. You cannot convince others of the truth by argument; it comes by experience. You have had that experience. PAY ATTENTION.

In the Gospel lesson Jesus urges the disciples to PAY ATTENTION. To pay attention to what they already know, and to trust that wisdom to guide them. You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. YES, YOU. You have come to know something many people do not know; you have experienced something many people long to experience. Don’t hide your light. PAY ATTENTION AND LET OTHERS SEE THE LIGHT THAT HAS FOUND YOU.

That’s point # 1 in the sermon. The wise person is one who pays attention. Someone asked the Buddha one day who he was, and he replied, “I am awake.” Someone else asked him to describe a spiritual person. He replied that the spiritual person is one who pays attention. Jesus often said the same thing: Let those who have ears to hear, listen. Let those who have eyes to see, see. FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, PAY ATTENTION.

Wise people pay attention with their eyes, not just with their expectations. A few weeks ago on a really cold morning I pulled into the parking lot and noticed an elderly black man heading toward the office door. He was all bundled up and I had two thoughts: how sad that he is having to contend with this cold, and he is going to ask me for money. I had my speech ready about giving our financial aid to Salvation Army and that he would have to go there to get help.

About that time he called my by name and said, “Tom, you need a heavier coat on a day like this.” Then I recognized him as someone I have known for several years. He was delivering a flyer about the Martin Luther King parade, and decided to walk instead of driving his car.

My eyes did not see this man. My prejudice saw him. I did not wait to see who he was and why he was at the church. I made some big assumptions about him – all of them were wrong.

We do this all the time. We limit the people we talk to, the people we spend time with, the people we even notice on the streets. That is not very wise.

People who are wise are people of humility. I don’t think you can be wise without being humble. And I don’t think you can be humble without picking up a good bit of wisdom along the way. Some of you may remember hearing the old country/western song, “Lord it’s hard being humble.” It goes like this, “Lord, it’s hard to be humble when you’re perfect in every way. Lord, it’s hard to be humble, but I’m doing the best that I can.”

Lessons in humility are everywhere if we are willing to pay attention. If we were as attentive to our own mistakes as we are to the mistakes of other people, we would gain wisdom by leaps and bounds. I learned such a lesson the hard way in my former life. After an angry argument about which highway to take – I knew without a doubt I was right – I discovered I was wrong. And then the wheels began to turn: it dawned on me that we had lots of arguments about directions -- which way to turn. When I thought a little further I realized that in all of those disagreements I had never once been right. And she had never been wrong.

I took a deep breath, apologized, confessed my discovery, and never argued about directions again.

Wise people are curious and they are comfortable with mystery. That’s an interesting combination: to be curious and want to figure things out; but to know that many important things will elude us.

Albert Einstein lived his life in exactly this way: he was in constant pursuit of things he wanted to understand, but he knew no one would ever find all the pieces of the puzzle.

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”

The prophet Isaiah urged his people to pay attention. The apostle Paul urged his people to pay attention. Jesus urged his people to pay attention. To pay attention with their eyes and not their prejudice; to pay attention with humility and not with certainty; to pay attention with curiosity and respect for mystery.

To pay attention and be open; to approach life with humility; to have many questions and not many answers – that’s not just wisdom. That’s also what the journey of faith is all about.

If you needed advice, where would you go? Obviously, if you needed advice about your car you would go to a mechanic. If you needed legal advice you would talk with an attorney. But what if you needed advice about your life, about the direction you are headed and the direction you want to go?

If we needed advice or input regarding how to live, most of us would go to the wisest person we know. This wise person may be well educated, but maybe not. This wise person may be a recognized leader, but maybe not. We would likely consult with the person whose judgment we respect most.

When we reach an impasse in our own analysis about something important, we do well to talk with someone we trust, someone whose perspective will help us with our dilemma. Someone we consider to be wise.

Over the next several Sundays I would like for us to think together during the sermon time about the topic of wisdom. What wisdom is. What wisdom is not. How do we acquire wisdom? How do we learn to pay attention in ways that deepen our wisdom. Do we even want to be wiser? How can I avoid wisdom?

We find help with this matter of wisdom in the scripture readings for today. First, in the letter of Paul to the church at Corinth.

Apparently the church has a new challenge. It seems like they had one new challenge after another. In this particular case some visiting teachers tried to change their minds about some of the things Paul had taught them. The teachers suggested that Paul made the message of faith entirely too simple. Matters of faith and salvation and how to live are complex matters, they said, and the simple message of the Jesus story was naïve and inadequate.

Paul replies that faith is not a matter of the head; it is a matter of the heart. Even the smartest and wisest people can’t begin to understand God’s ways. God’s values are not the same as human values. All the understanding in the world is not enough without trust.

Paul says that God did not make the message of faith hard, but made it easy. Access to God is available for all, not just those who know a lot.

Then from the Sermon on the Mount: Jesus talks about those who are fortunate, those who are blessed, those who have been touched in ways that evoke wisdom.

The poor and the poor in spirit: theirs is the kingdom of heaven. When folks realize that all they have is temporary, they have found the path of wisdom. When folks discover humility they have found the path of wisdom.

Blessed are those who mourn – people who have suffered great loss know something about life they did not know before. Comfort comes through the discovery that life can go on even though it feels like it cannot. The loss, the gap, is never closed; but we find ways to move forward in new ways, despite the pain and suffering.

Blessed are the meek: bridle – those who know the value of reigning in their energy, the value of focusing their energy and putting it to good use.

Blessed are those who are curious about spiritual matters. This is the beginning of wisdom.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. Blessed are those who know that we are all in the same boat together; that what hurts one of us hurts us all, and what builds up one us is good for all.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will seek God. Blessed are those who are not blinded by the distractions and demands of life. Blessed are those who know you can never eat enough to be full; that you can never own enough to feel satisfied; that you can never have enough security to feel secure.

Peacemakers: not peacekeepers, but peace-makers. Blessed are those who want to see justice.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake – Matthew’s audience had heard about persecutions, and some of them were likely to face persecution if they were at all public about their faith.

As we explore wisdom over the next several weeks, I hope we come away a bit wiser. I hope that we can open our minds, open our eyes, and open our hearts to discover wisdom that we already have and don’t know it. And I hope all of us can learn some things that will keep us on the path of wisdom. The path where the foolishness of God is greater than the wisdom of humankind.

Gracious God, in you we live and move and have our being: We humbly pray that you would guide and govern us by your Holy Spirit, that in all the cares and occupations of our life we may not forget you, but may remember that we are ever walking in your sight; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.