American Individualism And Christian Community:contradiction, Compromise, Or Challenge?
Children's sermon
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Preaching
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Object:
Dear Fellow Preacher,
A lot of Americans are seeing their paychecks shrinking. Many others are out of work and having a much harder time than they ever imagined finding a new job. Here at The Immediate Word, it strikes us that this is a time to reaffirm the dependence on one another that has always characterized the church community when it is at its best.
So for this week's installment, we've asked team member Carter Shelley to use the lectionary texts found in Psalm 1 and Acts 1:15-17, 21-26, to explore ways Christians can embody true community.
Since some of you will choose to observe Ascension this Sunday, we have also included a sermon from team member George L. Murphy on that topic (it's a cool sci-fi approach!). And then, just for good measure, we've also provided an additional sermon on Psalm 1, by team member Carlos Wilton.
Naturally, we've also supplied, as usual, team comments, related illustrations, worship resources, and a children's sermon.
American Individualism and Christian Community:
Contradiction, Compromise, or Challenge?
By Carter Shelley
Psalm 1
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26
The Psalmist emphasizes obedience to the Torah as the route to prosperity and righteousness for God's faithful. In the Old Testament earthly prosperity was understood as a sign of God's approval. The prosperous individual not only lived the right kind of life, but also he or she was the right kind of person: pious, selfless, law-abiding. This person is happy to be among "the congregation of the righteous."
A key phrase in the Declaration of Independence is the individual's right to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Psalm 1 declares such happiness is not possible apart from God. Only those who obey the law of God and "are constantly open to God's instruction" will be truly happy. The entire psalm is a comparison between the righteous and the wicked. The former obey the law and have the good fortune to be connected to God and to be in community with others "in the congregation of the righteous" while the wicked like chaff are blown away by the wind and will perish.1
This Sunday's lesson from Acts provides a vital link between Jesus' ascension and the bestowing of the Holy Spirit. Three groups of people, all of whom witnessed Jesus' earthly ministry, must be identified and sanctioned for the work the Holy Spirit will inspire them to do. The death of Judas the betrayer has left a gap among the first group, Jesus' disciples. Matthias is added to their number to restore their number to 12 men, reminiscent of the 12 patriarchs of Israel. From this point on these men will be called "apostles," a term used by Luke solely to identify those who knew Jesus personally and witnessed his resurrection. In Acts, Paul is never called an apostle, because he does not share this credential. The second group identified includes some women, Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers. These individuals are understood to have been people open to God's revelations and promises evident in Jesus Christ during his lifetime. In the case of Mary, she committed herself to his life and work before he was even born. The third group consists of other witnesses to Jesus' life and ministry. The number 120 carries significance because a town or village had to have 120 individuals as residents before it could establish a Sanhedrin and synagogue. Thus, the worship community soon to begin harkens back to accepted standards for religious practices.
What do these two texts say that connects them with today's Immediate Word? The Psalmist in Psalm 1 and the first Christians presented in Acts 1:15-17, 21-26 emphasize dependence and community over against individualism. The Psalmist understands that true sustenance and support can only be found in acknowledging one's dependence upon God and living a faithful, obedient life. In Acts, the earliest Christians quickly realize they must add other disciples to their depleted numbers in order to more effectively share the Gospel. Such an act affirms at the outset Christianity's commitment to community over individualism and the need the early church had to establish a communal base for validation, evangelism, and mutual support.
In exploring the relationship between American individualism and Christian community, it may be helpful to define both terms in the sense Webster's Dictionary offers and in our own general understanding of each. The word "individualism" describes "a doctrine that the interests of the individual are or ought to be ethically paramount"; along with that goes the notion "that all values, rights and duties originate in individuals" with a strong emphasis upon the "political and economic independence of the individual and stressing individual initiative, action and interests."2
American individualism in its best sense refers to a sense of self-confidence, a sense of the self as someone who can be a success, make something of his or her life if the person has ambition and a vision and works hard. Modern individual success stories include that of author Stephen King raised by a single mother who struggled for every dime she earned, Sandra Day O'Connor who found something positive in every professional setback she faced as lawyer and mother before being rewarded with a seat on the Supreme Court, and Bill Gates who left Harvard before earning his degree in order to concentrate on computers full time.
American individualism at its worst is described in Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life3:
... once there was a language of sin and redemption, there is now a the therapeutic language of the self, a radical self which is encouraged by the therapeutic mode to consider one's self and one's happiness as paramount and thus mirrors and supports the ideology of the free market.4
For many prosperous Americans, the primary commitment has become a commitment to the self, as in, "I have to take care of my needs and find myself before I can think about anyone else's needs." For me, this type of American individualism describes almost any character in any Woody Allen movie where the lives of well-to-do, self-absorbed, unfaithful, unproductive, whiny individuals hold forth.
Webster's Seventh Collegiate Dictionary defines "community" as "a unified body of individuals ... people with common interests ... a group of people with common characteristics or interest living together within a larger society; a group linked by a common policy" or "fellowship."
Our notion of Christian community begins with those described in the book of Acts. The church is a place where societal norms and prejudices are forgotten. The rich and the poor pool their resources so that all may have enough to eat. Though a subject of much debate and controversy, the church becomes a community where Jewish and Gentile Christians rub shoulders and call one another sister and brother. The traditional household rules (wives be subject to your husbands, etc.) that reassert themselves in Colossians do not apply. Women may be leaders, slaves are affirmed as whole persons, and decisions are made through prayer and collaboration. It is not a place where the self comes first. In fact the unifying feature that all share is their faith in Jesus Christ and their desire to embody God's kingdom on earth as outlined in Jesus' ministry. "Blessed are the poor ... blessed are the peacemakers ... turn the other cheek ... forgive seven times seven ... whoever asks for your cloak, give him your shirt as well"-- these are hardly a manifesto touted by Donald Trump or the executives of American Airlines.
Time magazine's lead article for May 25, 2003, concerns the rise of unemployment and shrinking paychecks in our great nation. More than 500,000 workers have been laid off since January. As Time so poignantly describes it, American workers at all levels -- on the factory floor, in the cubicles and at the corner offices -- are working more hours for less pay than ever before in post-World War II America.
Because we are a nation founded on the notion that hard word is always rewarded, those who lose their jobs frequently get ignored due to embarrassment about their situation or our own helplessness in knowing how to reach out. The American mindset is based upon the assumption that hard work and careful saving are the road to success and independence. The downside of American individualism is that we hold people responsible for things that aren't their fault. Because of our belief that individual hard work and independence pay off, it goes against our image of ourselves to ask another for help or admit that we need it. Better to fret about mortgage payments, grocery bills, and gas by ourselves than to admit that we need the economic and emotional support of our fellow Christians.
That leaves us with a problem. Raised to value individualism and independence, how are American Christians to respond to others in our current economic hard times?
While observations up to this point may imply an either/or distinction between American individualism and Christian community, it isn't that simple. For good or for ill, all of us here today live with and embody both affirmations. Moreover, the way they relate varies. Sometimes the values of one contradict the values of the other. Sometimes a compromise between them is required. At all times, it is to be hoped that the latter vision will challenge the former.
Contradictions
There are many ways to discuss the contradictions that exist between American individualism and Christian community. The idea of "my way or the highway" in business management is certainly a familiar one. The fame and recognition that someone receives for making "deals" and large amounts of money which he then spends on flashy mansions and beautiful women certainly have nothing in common with the vision of community modeled by the first-century church. Capitalism itself is based upon the notion that one fights one's way to the top through squelching the competition -- think of Wal-Mart underpricing small shops into oblivion or the robber barons like John D. Rockefeller and Andrew Carneige who underpaid, overworked, and exploited their employees for years before each man turned to philanthropy.
Yet part of becoming an adult is learning to live with contradictions. We affirm that Jesus is both human and divine. We know that the only way one can establish "good credit" in our country is by borrowing money and then paying it back. Thus, we need ways to take the seeming contradiction of American individualism and Christian community and create from it something better than the sum of their parts.
Compromise
With unemployment figures higher than they've been in years, it is no wonder many workers are accepting pay cuts and extra work in order to hang on to their jobs. In many instances, employees also have had to accept pay freezes and reductions in bonuses and overtime, or worse yet, reductions in or removal of health coverage and pensions. As a rule, most employees have taken a "we're in this together" attitude to the salary and benefit cuts companies have required. The notion of "I give up a little and you give up a little" works when such compromise keeps businesses afloat. When a company such as AMR, the parent company of American Airlines, expects $9 billion dollar wage "giveback" from its union employees to keep the airline from going under and simultaneously approves $41 million dollars in pension guarantees for its top executives, both the workers and the idea of compromise are betrayed.
In book 4 of the Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, a yearlong competition called the Triwizard Cup has taken place between the four school champions. After facing fire-breathing dragons and underwater rescues in the first two competitions, the champions face an incredible maze. Then, surviving many tricks and dangers to each from the goblet of fire, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory arrive at the prize simultaneously. Both want to be the school champion. Both want to win. But both are there. What should they do? As they debate what to do, the two teens establish community between themselves, each caring for the other's welfare as well as his own.
I'm embarrassed to admit that the way author J.K. Rowling resolves the dilemma caught me by surprise:
Harry looked from Cedric to the cup. For one shining moment, he saw himself emerging from the maze, holding it. He saw himself holding the Triwizard Cup aloft, heard the roar of the crowd, saw Cho's face shining with admiration, more clearly than he had ever seen it before ... and then the picture faded, and he found himself staring at Cedric's shadowy, stubborn face.
"Both of us," Harry said.
"What?"
"We'll take it at the same time. It's still Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."
Cedric stared at Harry. He unfolded his arms.
"You -- you're sure?"
"Yeah," said Harry, "Yeah ... we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together."
For a moment, Cedric looked as though he couldn't believe his ears; then his face split into a grin.
"You're on," he said. "Come here."
He grabbed Harry's arm below the shoulder and helped Harry limp toward the plinth where the cup stood. When they had reached it, they both held a hand out over one of the cup's gleaming handles.
"On three, right?" said Harry. "One -- two -- three."
He and Cedric both grasped a handle.5 (634-635).
Neither one will win outright. Neither one will win individually. They will share the honor. Thus, both take hold of one side of the goblet at the same time so both will win.
Challenge
Maintaining community in an individualistic culture takes intentional action and remains a challenge. John F. Kennedy's inaugural challenge, "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country," inspired many in the 1960s to work for Civil Rights or in the Peace Corps as a way of finding meaning outside one's individual goals and ambitions.
American dollar bills and coins all possess the inscription, "In God we trust." It's significant that it's not "In God I trust," but the plural. In other words, we are in this thing together -- albeit at times reluctantly. When President Bush declares us a Christian nation determined to rid the world of the axis of evil, I cringe at the smug sanctimony that seems to assume all evils are external, and none are possessed by you or me. As a diehard Democrat, I didn't support the war with Iraq, and I'm afraid the tax cuts and budget deficit our government just approved may bankrupt our nation, not rescue it. But I am a citizen of this country, and like it or not I need you and other Christian citizens to temper my frustrations and help find workable solutions within the current economic hard times.
With high unemployment, high job stress, and a high fear level among working Americans, it's hard to feel hopeful or find creative solutions. It's also very hard to maintain a sense of self when one's identity and value are wrapped up in a job one may no longer have.
The positive side of American citizenship and community is represented in a documentary about spelling bees currently showing in movie theaters. Spellbound follows the hard work, twists and turns, and challenges a number of American youngsters encounter in order to reach the National Spelling Bee finals. It is also an example of the American dream fulfilled. Two of the key contestants are first generation Americans whose parents moved to the United States from India and Mexico respectively. A third contestant is an African-American teen raised in urban poverty. While only one of the contestants can win, all of these youngsters already are heroes and success stories. They have learned how to believe in themselves and to work hard for a better future.
To maintain a sense of self, goals, hopes, dreams, and personality while working toward a greater good is a challenge that depends upon American individualism and Christian community working hand-in-hand.
There are a number of important theological affirmations that one can make.
Both biblical texts imply that what is most important to God is what really matters in life. For the Psalmist what is most important is obedience to the law or Torah, which can be understood as "particular legal stipulations" or as "the entire tradition of God's revelation."6 In Luke's account in this first chapter of Acts, what is most important is for those who have experienced Jesus' teaching and resurrection firsthand to prepare themselves for the giving of the Holy Spirit and for their spreading of the Good News of Jesus Christ. God first challenges those who knew Jesus best: his disciples, women, immediate family members such as Jesus' mother and brothers, and those who witnessed Jesus' ministry personally. Their purpose is not self-actualization, personal ambition, or the acquisition of material goods, but the spreading of the Good News of Jesus Christ. Service to God is paramount in both instances. But note, such service begins within the framework of a community in which the members support one another.
In his book The Message of the Psalms Walter Brueggeman observes:
Psalm 1 does not bargain or allow for ambiguity. It is the voice of a community that is familiar with risks, dangers, costs, and boundaries. It fully appreciates the givenness of God's world and has confidence that the Torah is the only thinkable response to the givenness of creation. It probably is also a tract for socialization, by which the adult community firmly conditions the young into right morality. This community trusts its morality to be a way to fend off trouble. It is life and death, and the young had better learn it while there is time7 (39).
Christ calls us to be in community with one another. "The quality of life we enjoy will be determined by the quality of community we build, at home, where we work, where we study, where we play" writes author and lecturer Clifton L. Taulbert8, best known for his memoir Once Upon a Time When We Were Colored, which has been made into the movie Back When We Were Colored. Taulbert is the president and founder of Building Community Institute in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Taulbert identifies eight key features that are needed for successful community. He discusses each in his book Eight Habits of the Heart: The Timeless Values that Build Strong Communities. In this book, with its intentional allusion to Bellah, et al's earlier work, Taulbert identifies eight ways people can establish and maintain community. They are:
1) a nurturing attitude,
2) responsibility,
3) dependability,
4) friendship,
5) brotherhood (sic),
6) high expectations,
7) courage, and
8) hope9 (ww.utsa.edu/slcp/8habits.
While it may not be practical to explore all eight characteristics in one sermon, the concreteness of this list offers room for rich reflection.
We know why individuality matters -- we need a sense of our own worth to God and to others in order to be separate and distinct. There must be a self before there can be an other. To put it in the words of a theologian, there must be an I/Thou relationship or there is no relationship at all.
Community also matters. Community offers a place of support. In the movie The Full Monty, based upon the humorous premise that a bunch of ordinary guys, laid off from their jobs, could successfully convert themselves into sexy male strippers, the point is not the dance steps they learn or whether they go the "full Monty" when they finally perform. The real point is the group project gets them out of their individual depressions. It gives them both community and a purpose, something to work for and believe in at a time when they feel useless and irrelevant.
Early on in my ministry I was the Associate Minister of a downtown church in which a third of the membership was 65 or older. More than 75 percent of them were single or single-again women: widows, never married, or divorced. What I learned from this church was how important community was to these older single women. They checked up on each other, offered car rides to those without transportation, made sure someone called to find out what caused one lady or other to miss a church circle meeting or Sunday morning worship. They took excellent care of one another. They did it because they wanted to, but it was also a necessity.
One of the strongest lobbies in Washington is the AARP -- American Association of Retired People. It even gives the gun lobby a run for its money in terms of clout and influence. The idea of AARP is that American citizens over 50 years of age must protect each other if we are to protect ourselves.
We all know there is strength in numbers. The church is a place to be supported and comforted, but also a place to be challenged -- I am not always right in my opinions or actions any more than you are. We need one another as a corrective and a challenge. More heads are more creative than one. This website is a case in point. My own preaching is so much richer, thanks to the shared talents and expertise my Immediate Word colleagues bring to the preaching and worship task. I could never find all the excellent illustrations, insights, or different ways of approaching each week's text that I encounter through collaboration.
American individualism and Christian community -- they don't have to be mutually exclusive. To attain the best from both we look to the Word of God for guidance and the community of faith for a model; then we need to look for ways to turn contradictions into challenges and compromises into collaborations -- all dedicated to the service of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Notes
1 The Access Bible, Psalms, McCann 681.
2 Webster's Seventh Collegiate Dictionary.
3 Robert Bellah, et al.
4 Book Review by panopticonman on Amazon.com, May 26, 2003, p. 5 of 11.
5 634-635.
6 McCann 681.
7 39.
8 www.olemiss.edu/mwp/dir/taulbert_clifton.
9 www.utsa.edu/slcp/8habits.
Team Comments
Stan Purdum responds: I have to confess that I found this a slower start than most of your other work in The Immediate Word, and I think it is because you jumped immediately into the text, telling me, the reader, "First you have to read some commentary." The material from Time and the individualism stuff is much more interesting as an opener to persuade me to keep reading. Any chance of re-arranging the material and leading with the shrinking paychecks?
George Murphy responds: I agree with Stan about the slow start. Beginning with the text is often okay, but here I think it would be better to kick it off with the current issues.
It's often said that Luke never calls Paul an apostle, but he does (with Barnabas) in Acts 14:4 and14.
It's worth noting that there is no use of "saint" to refer to an individual in the New Testament. (The only occurrence in the singular, "every saint" in Philippians 4:21, has a plural sense.)
There is a strong current of equality between genders in the New Testament, especially Galatians 3:28. But there are also -- as you note -- the "tables of duties" like those in Colossians which point in a different direction. It would take us off on a tangent to deal with this in detail, but the tension between these two tendencies in the canon does need to be dealt with.
Along with the fact that the motto "In God we trust" is plural, it's even more significant for Christians that the Lord's Prayer is plural. We don't pray "Give me this day my daily bread."
I think that one of the most problematic aspects of American individualism in the political realm is the unwillingness to pay taxes for the common good. "Tax cuts" is a magic formula and schools have to struggle to get people to pay taxes to support public education. (We just lost a vote for school construction in my community this month.) Of course, the main reason for that is that people just want to keep their money, and that's especially the case in difficult economic times like the present. But that's exacerbated by their inability to see that people do need to pay their share for the welfare of everybody. ("Why would anyone vote to increase their taxes?" I heard one local man ask in genuine puzzlement.)
But a more basic problem is the way American Christians -- and especially Protestants -- view church membership. I think many see the church as a kind of interest group, a gathering of like-minded people that one joins or leaves as one wishes. That's quite different from the picture of an organic community that the New Testament gives with the image especially of the church as the Body of Christ into which people are incorporated by the Holy Spirit.
An Ascension Day Sermon -- a science-fiction approach
By George L. Murphy
(Note: By way of explanation, "The Body of Christ, the bread of heaven," is part of the usual Episcopalian distribution formula.)
The Bread of Heaven
Acts 1:1-11
"This could be kind of embarrassing!" she thought as she looked at the computer screen and read the text from Acts that she needed to preach some kind of homily on that evening: "When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight." Of course, she'd read this story of the Ascension of Jesus many times before and had even preached on it. She'd been ordained for 10 years now. But this time it was different.
Now she wasn't in a seminary library or in her study in a parish church. Instead she was sitting at a messy desk in a biochemistry laboratory on the planet Mars, a laboratory that represented her day job. It was here that she analyzed samples of air and soil and water in order to provide data that would help in judging the progress of the massive project of terraforming the planet. The fact that she was also a pastor and could serve as a Christian chaplain for the scientists and engineers engaged in this project had been, she knew perfectly well, something of an afterthought. Pastoral care and preaching and theology were hardly the highest priorities for the Extraterrestrial Development Agency of the U.N. It was fortunate that they'd been interested in providing any religious leadership at all.
And now one of the members of the small ecumenical congregation had brightly pointed out a few days ago that it would soon be the Feast of the Ascension, and that it would be nice to have a service in the evening. She hadn't bothered to say that since they were now on another planet with a different orbital period and rotation rate, it was completely artificial to say that this was the 40th day after Easter. But you didn't want to discourage people who have a desire to worship, and she'd agreed. So here she was at her lunch hour, looking over the texts and realizing how archaic they seemed in this context.
"He was lifted up" -- just as the old paintings of the Ascension showed it, Jesus floating up to the sky. "And a cloud took him out of their sight" -- as if heaven were just a few kilometers above the earth, hidden behind some bits of water vapor! And here she was on Mars, able to go out and see the earth as a bright star a hundred million kilometers distant. She could look out through the thin Martian atmosphere and see star clusters tens of thousands of light years distant. How did Jesus lifting up from the earth to be "seated at the right hand of the Father" fit into that picture?
Oh, of course, the cloud is a symbol of the presence of God. Jesus didn't really rise up like a balloon to sit down on a throne somewhere out in space. It wasn't that her faith depended on the literal truth of any of those pictures -- but how were you supposed to talk about it? What did this story of the Ascension really have that meant anything today when people were traveling through a much vaster universe than those writers of the Bible were aware of?
Well, maybe there were some other texts in the Bible that would be more helpful than that one from Acts. She said, "Search, ascend," and a list of verses appeared on the screen. Hmm, this one from Ephesians 4 is interesting. "He who descended is the same one who ascended far above all heavens, so that he might fill all things." That's a little better -- Christ being present throughout the universe. But it's still not very easy to picture. Because after all, we're talking about Jesus, the one who showed the disciples the marks of the nails. And if we believe that the body that hung on the cross was really raised from the dead, then somehow we have to talk about the presence of that body.
That's the real problem -- where's the body? Where is Jesus? He is not just an idea or a memory but an embodied person. I need to be able to say that in a way that makes sense here and now, A.D. 2251 on Mars. But how?
She didn't get much beyond that and soon had to go back to work in the lab, trying to see how well some of the microorganisms they'd introduced were surviving the frigid Martian climate. And when the small group of Christians gathered that evening, she didn't feel that she had anything very profound to say. The room was dark when they entered, and the view through the thick window, with sharp unwinking stars looking down on the harsh desert, reminded them all that they were no longer on the home planet. One of Mars' tiny moons could be seen moving across the sky. The homily said little about the Ascension itself and nothing about the body, and spoke instead about the promise of the Spirit. It was, the homilist felt, pretty feeble.
But now it was time for the meal with its familiar words. "The Lord be with you. And also with you." Words that carried their own meaning, even if you weren't thinking about every one of them, if you didn't understand all of them. "Heaven and earth are full of your glory" -- and at that a couple of people glanced at the window, thinking of that stark land-and star-scape.
Then the most familiar words of all -- "Our Lord Jesus Christ took bread" -- she raised the loaf -- "Take and eat: This is my Body" -- and stopped. It was one of those moments that seem like hours though the clock ticks only once. "This is my Body which is given for you. You need not understand the fullness of my new and unending life, a life that you too will share. It is indeed far above all heavens and fills all things. 'A little while, and you will see me no more' and 'I am with you always, to the close of the age.' And because I fill all things, there is no place where you cannot take bread and wine and say, 'This is my Body, this cup is the new covenant in my blood.' Do not worry about where I am when you are not there. Be assured that I am here for you in this action, wherever you may be."
The moment passed, and somehow she was able to end the prayer. And as each of the members of the congregation came forward she broke a piece from the loaf, placed it in the person's hand, and said, "The Body of Christ, the bread of heaven."
A Sermon on Psalm 1
By Carlos E. Wilton
"Roots"
Psalm 1; Ephesians 4:7, 11-16
"They are like trees, planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season..."
--Psalm 1:3a
One of the great Christian storytellers of our time was a Jesuit priest from India, by the name of Anthony de Mello. One of de Mello's many parables is about a woman who was in a coma, and dying. As the woman lay there on her sickbed, she was barely aware of her surroundings ... but then, suddenly, she had a feeling that she had been taken up to heaven, and was standing before the judgment seat of God.
She could see nothing, only clouds of dark smoke: but then out of the ponderous silence came a voice. "Who are you?" boomed the Voice.
Not knowing what else to say, she turned to the answer she had used most often in life. "I'm the wife of the mayor," she replied.
"I did not ask you whose wife you are, but who you are."
"I'm the mother of four children," she continued.
Again came the answer: "I did not ask whose mother you are, but who you are."
"I'm a schoolteacher."
"I did not ask you what your profession is, but who you are."
And so it went. The same question repeated, over and over -- but no matter what the woman replied, her answer was unacceptable.
Finally, she thought to try another answer: "I'm a Christian," she said.
But that, too, was unacceptable: "I did not ask what your religion is, but who you are."
"I'm the one who went to church every week, and always helped the poor and needy."
"I did not ask you what you did, but who you are."
De Mello concludes his parable by observing that the woman evidently failed the examination, for she was sent back to earth. Soon after, she awakes from her coma, and resumes her life. But something's different. Something's changed about her. From that day forward, the woman resolves to discover who she is. And that, the storyteller concludes, makes all the difference. (As told in The Prayer of the Frog.)
So who are you -- really?
Strip away all those layers you have spent your life carefully building up -- all those labels, those titles, those definitions -- and what's left? What is the essential core of yourself that God sees?
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There is a rich tradition in the Hebrew scriptures that specializes in helping people like you and me uncover who we are. It's known as wisdom literature. The heart of wisdom literature is the Book of Psalms -- and in the very beginning of that book, we have a wonderful, wonderful song that steps back and takes a long look at this human life of ours, and what it means.
Psalm 1 is the introduction to the Book of Psalms. It has long been a favorite of rabbis who like to use it with their very youngest students, those children just starting out to study the scriptures. Psalm 1 provides a road map of what's ahead. Psalm 1 provides the frame around the picture: it defines the boundaries of the spiritual life.
It begins on a positive note: "Happy are those ..." Other translations say, "Blessed are those ..." It doesn't much matter: happiness ... blessedness ... they both mean pretty much the same thing.
"Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked." That would seem to be a no-brainer. Who, after all, wants to be on the wrong side -- to be one of the villain's henchmen (or henchwomen)? Nobody, watching Wars, yearns to be an Imperial Storm Trooper; or, watching The Wizard of Oz, desires, in their heart of hearts, to join the Wicked Witch's Flying Monkey Brigade!
"The advice of the wicked" is easy to shun when it comes from movie villains: from characters dressed all in black, who rub their hands together a lot and hiss when they speak. But the problem is, in the real world wickedness rarely clothes itself in black. It looks attractive, appealing, comfortable.
"The advice of the wicked" simply refers to the prevailing value system promoted by an unbelieving world. It's the sort of message the media doles out to us every day -- especially in big-budget advertising. We've all heard the siren-song:
Acquire more ...
Be more successful ...
Look younger and sexier ...
Don't get mad, get even with those who hurt you ...
Pursue personal happiness at all costs ...
Go ahead, use other people to get what you want (they'd do the same, in your place)...
There was a gasoline company that marketed its fuel with this slogan: "We will help you move faster!" (Who said moving faster is always a good thing?) There was a magazine ad that proclaimed, "If money can't buy happiness, consider leasing it." The ad was promoting luxury cars. This sort of thing is what the psalmist truly means by "the advice of the wicked."
All day long, we're fairly bombarded with advice like that. And it's bad advice! It's setting us up for failure (for who can buy or achieve everything touted by the advertisers?). It's shaping the way we think, molding our desires and even our values.
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"Happy are those who do not ... take the path that sinners tread." Now this is one step beyond simply listening to "the advice of the wicked." It's getting up and doing what they do, adapting our lifestyle to fit not the way of Jesus Christ, but the way of the world around us.
The Hebrew word for "sinner," used here by the psalmist, doesn't refer to a person who's bad to the core. Literally, it means a person who has missed the mark: like an archer who has aimed for the target, but has sent the arrow flying off into the woods.
You and I don't have to look far to see plenty of people who are "missing the mark" today. They're shooting at the wrong target, pursing the wrong goals. They're caught up in what is often referred to as "the rat race" of material achievement, of seeking pleasure for themselves, no matter what it may cost to those around them -- even to those they love. Yet so strong can the herd impulse be, among all those racing rats, that it's difficult for those standing on the sidelines not to join in. That's what it means to "take the path that sinners tread."
There's the third step in the slow, downward spiral laid out by the psalmist: to "sit in the seat of the scoffers." Scoffers are cynics: those who, in Oscar Wilde's words, "know the price of everything and the value of nothing." I remembered having read somewhere that the word "cynic" comes from the Greek word for "dog," and when I looked it up in the dictionary, I found this description: "Having the qualities of a surly dog; snarling; captious; currish."
Few things are easier, in life, than sitting back and mocking those things that have true value. There are some among our neighbors who mock what we do here: who see no value in worship, who always question the motives of those who seek to do good for others. Boldly they proclaim that they avoid the church because there are too many hypocrites in it -- though it's interesting to note that they don't stop using dollar bills because there are counterfeits in circulation! When they hear Christians speak publicly of their faith, the scoffers deride them as "holier-than-thou" types. They pounce eagerly on every muckraking news story of a religious leader who falls into sin, imagining that this somehow discredits the whole of Christian faith -- forgetting that Christianity has proclaimed all along that sin is seductive and dangerous.
So appealing can be the cynics' mocking song, that before long, we may even find ourselves humming it. You or I may avoid mentioning to others, in casual conversation, that we're Christians. When the neighbors or co-workers pull their calendars out to plan a recreational event, and Sunday morning's mentioned, it's easy to silently pencil it in. When the popular kid in the high school sings the praises of some music video that mocks Christianity, it sometimes seems the wiser course to say nothing. Then, one day, we may sit up straight and realize that a great chasm has grown between our Monday-through-Saturday lives, and what we do within these four walls. Then, it will be clear that the scoffers have won.
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It's an easy, gently-sloping road from hearing "the advice of the wicked" to "taking the path that sinners tread," to actually sitting "in the seat of scoffers." But the one good thing about that road is that it's not one-way. It's possible to turn, and head the other direction.
The rest of Psalm 1 -- most of it, anyway -- is about how to act positively to strengthen our spiritual lives. The people who are truly "happy" or "blessed" are those "whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and on [that] law they meditate, day and night."
Then the psalmist provides us with a beautiful image that captures in a deeply poetic way what it means to be a person of God:
They are like trees planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in its season,
and their leaves do not wither.
In all that they do, they prosper.
Do you know what's the most important part of a tree? Ask any landscaper who's in the business of transplanting trees, and you'll find out right quick: it's the roots. When planting a tree, landscapers take inordinate trouble to make sure that the root-ball stays tightly packed and moist -- that it gets into the right kind of soil, and at the right depth. All kinds of damage can happen, in transit, to the trunk or branches or leaves, but as long as the roots are intact, there's hope for recovery and growth. Yet if the roots are destroyed, the tree will die.
The psalmist sings of a tree "planted by streams of water." Its roots, in other words, are sunk in the best possible place. Thirstily they drink up the life-giving water, and even if a drought may afflict the land, this tree will survive and flourish.
There's a clear metaphor, here, of the spiritual life -- and those ancient rabbis would always take pains to be sure their young students understood it well. The study of God's word they were about to undertake would be, for them, like sinking their roots into moist soil. The more they immersed themselves in the scriptures, the more they would find power for living.
It is important that we study the faith. It's something we haven't done such a good job on, when it comes to adults. So convinced are we of the importance of Christian education for children and youth that we often have a whole, separate building for it; but we've put just a fraction of our human and financial resources into adult education. It's almost as though we believed that, after confirmation, there's nothing left to learn; just show up in worship and listen to a sermon every once in a while -- a sermon that's shorter in duration than even a TV sitcom -- and you're doing all you need do to nurture your own faith.
The author of Psalm 1 would declare how wrong such thinking is! On the law of God, he says, do the righteous meditate -- day and night. The word "meditate" is derived from the word for "murmur": it refers to the practice of repeating a biblical text over and over again to oneself, to commit it to memory -- as the orthodox Jews do, in their worship, even today.
What kind of meditations -- what kind of murmurings -- fill our minds, each day? Is it the shopping list? Or the quiz on Monday? Or the memo from the boss? Or -- worst of all -- the advertising jingle? When was the last time most of us truly pondered and reflected on God's word, made that meditation and reflection a major part of our lives?
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There is an alternative -- and don't worry, I'm not going to say a jealous God's going to zap you with a thunderbolt. There's no need for that: because, as the psalmist indicates, neglecting the scriptures carries its own reward.
The consequence is inevitable: "The wicked" -- for so he labels all those who neglect God's word -- "are like chaff that the wind drives away."
Now chaff -- unless any of us happen to live on a wheat farm -- is not something we spend time thinking about. But for the ancient Israelites, it was part of everyday life. When wheat was harvested, it was threshed -- the sheaves of wheat were dumped out on a stone slab called a threshing floor, and it was beaten with sticks. Then, someone threw it up in the air with a pitchfork. As it hung, suspended in the air, the wind would carry away a fine dust called chaff -- indigestible stuff that was no good to eat.
Here's what one preacher, who grew up in a farming community, has to say about chaff:
I do not think you city folks understand chaff. In Montana every fall we had harvesters who came around with a thrashing rig. The bundles of wheat would be thrown into this machine. The straw would be blown out onto the stack and the wheat would come dribbling out to be poured into trucks or wagons and taken away to the granary. But floating around in the air everywhere was chaff. It was the awfulest stuff you ever saw. It stuck to the skin wherever you sweat; on the back of your neck and down your shirt. It created frightful itching. It was universally regarded as the most worthless stuff there ever was.
That, says the psalmist, is God's evaluation of the life that never consistently allows itself to be focused on God's word. Such a life may be very impressive in the eyes of the world. It may display all the perks and luxuries that society uses to measure success. But inside -- deep within the soul -- that life is barren and empty, like so much chaff that the wind drives away.
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If you fear that your life has been headed in such a direction, I've got good news for you. It's not too late. It's never too late to turn -- or re-turn -- to the Lord. God's invitation, spoken here in Psalm 1, may be taken up at any time in life.
You can begin by dusting off that Bible -- turning to it more frequently than perhaps you've been accustomed. Come to one of the adult-education seminars we offer, or if you'd like to start a Bible-study of your own, then speak to one of the ministers -- we'd be glad to help you. If worship hasn't been a regular part of your life for some time, then one of the easiest things to do is to see that it becomes so; there's no place closer to the clear, running water of God's love than a worshiping congregation of God's people.
It really does make a difference where you and I sink our roots. If it is God who feeds and waters them, truly we will "yield our fruit in its season."
As you come to the Lord's Table in a short while, I invite you to come hungering and thirsting for the spiritual nourishment God has to offer. You don't need to be worthy to come to this Table; if you accept Christ's sacrifice for your sins, then he has already made you worthy. Just come. Let the streams of living water wash you clean, make you new, make you whole!
Related Illustrations Ours is an age that craves some sense of rootedness, some abiding sense of tradition. For example, antique dealers know there's a thriving black market in stolen family portraits. You may not think anyone could possibly want to hang a painting of somebody else's ancestor over their mantelpiece,? but think again! Apparently there's a market for that sort of thing. For some "rootless" individuals, if they can't have their own ancestors, they'll settle for someone else's. There's one antique dealer just south of Front Royal, Virginia, who makes no apologies about providing "roots" to those who have none. He's placed a billboard outside his thriving establishment that advertises: "Antique Tables Made Daily." (Well, at least he's honest about it!) ***** One who was spiritually "rooted" in just such a way was Horatio Spafford, a Christian lawyer from Chicago. In the year 1873, he placed his wife and four children on a luxury liner, the Ville du Havre, bound for France. Spafford's plan was to follow on another ship in a few weeks, after finishing up some essential business. Horatio Spafford never saw his children again. The liner on which they were riding collided in mid-ocean with another ship, and sunk in just 30 minutes. In the tumult and confusion of the wreck, Spafford's wife clung desperately to her four children ? but one by one they were swept away by the waves. She herself fell unconscious, and awoke later to find that she had been rescued by the other ship's crew, one of the few survivors of the tragedy. There was not a trace of their four children. Back home, Horatio Spafford, ?who had heard news of the disaster,? was anxiously awaiting word from his family. When the rescue ship reached the coast of Wales, his wife sent him a terse, two-word cablegram: "Saved alone," was all it said. With those agonizing words echoing in his mind, her husband plunged into a dark night of anguish such as he had never known. Yet somehow, in the midst of it all, Spafford found the strength to pray, and out of that prayer came an unearthly sense of peace, an awareness of God's presence in the midst of mind-numbing grief. Toward morning, he was able to confide in a friend: "I am glad to be able to trust my Lord when it costs me something." Sometime later, reflecting on the loss in his life, Horatio Spafford wrote a hymn. The hymn was set to a tune called "Ville du Havre," the name of the ship on which his children had died: When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows, like sea-billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul. ***** She say, Celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me. And I think all the other folks did too. They come to church to share God, not find God. -- Alice Walker. Words spoken by the character, Shug, in The Color Purple, p. 165, ed. Women's Press (1983). ***** In his book Lifesigns, Henri Nouwen observes that North American volunteers he met, working with the poor in Peru, were often somber and joyless (this is in contrast to the Peruvians themselves): "Few felt at home in their own world. Often they suffered from strained relationships with their family, had difficulty in developing close relationships with their peers, and felt hostile toward people in authority. Often they did not feel at home in their own bodies either. In many ways they were estranged, strangers to their past, their present, and their future: no home to come from, no home to go to, no true movement, no true life, no true joy. Seeing and feeling this deep suffering in my ambitious, successful friends, I was increasingly overwhelmed by the immense spiritual crisis of the so-called first world"(p. 96). ***** "For too long Christians seeking comfort have been defining community as a noun. In fact, community is people building something together, working on a common project (cum-munio)." -- Matthew Fox, *Original Blessing* (Santa Fe: Bear & Co., 1983), pp. 25-26. ***** "We cannot live for ourselves. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, and along these fibers, our actions run as causes and return to us as results." -- Herman Melville ***** The New York Times, May 18, 2003, has an excellent article by John Tierney on the relative value of human life, called "Life: The Cost-Benefit Analysis." It may be found at http://www.nytimes.com/2003/05/18/weekinreview/18TIER.html. ***** (Here's a possible sermon opener for a message on spiritual rootedness, on being deeply planted by "rivers of waters.") He was retired military, safe and secure after 20-plus years in the service, living on a comfortable pension. He had achieved a standard of living higher than his parents' wildest dreams. By all accounts, he should have been supremely happy; but he was not. Something very important was missing from his life. Alex Haley longed to know where he came from. And so he set out to discover his "roots." Everyone he told about his quest said he was crazy. How could an African-American, a descendant of slaves, trace his family history back across the ocean? There were no written records, they objected; no one kept track of the names of slaves. But Alex Haley had listened well to the stories of his family, the lore that had been passed from generation to generation. He had heard tell of a man named Kunta Kinte, captured by slavers, torn away from his homeland in West Africa. Impelled by the power of that name, generations old, and by the conviction that there had been a living, breathing human being behind it, Haley managed to do what everyone thought impossible: he traced his roots back, generation by generation, all the way to Africa. The book he wrote, Roots, tells his family's story. Psalm 1 traces a different kind of roots, not the roots of family history, but rather, spiritual roots. The Psalmist knows whereof he speaks. He lives, after all, in the Middle East, that land of sandy deserts cut through by cool, running rivers. Whether Jordan or Nile, Tigris or Euphrates, those shimmering ribbons of water give life to all the country round about. Beside their banks rise towering trees: date palms, willows, fruit trees of every description. They give up their fruit for human consumption; they offer shade for human pleasure. It is because those trees are "planted by streams of water" that they are able not only to survive the scorching noonday heat, but also to flourish. It is because they tap into a source of life beyond themselves that they are able to live. A great many people today seem to be searching for a "quick fix" when it comes to finding their spiritual roots. We already have instant oatmeal, instant film developing, instant FAX transmissions; why not "instant" faith? Salvation while you wait! Some seem to think you can be a Christian without ever worshiping God, without ever knowing the life of a community of faith, such as the church. All you need (according to this way of thinking) is a vague sort of respect for the Almighty, maybe a family Bible on the coffee table, and lip-service, always plenty of lip-service, to the notion that "God helps them that help themselves." Come serious crisis or illness, though, and those fair-weather believers just may find themselves, shall we say, "high and dry." "Shrubs in the desert," Jeremiah calls them; parched and thirsty, they have nowhere to turn for relief. If only they had planted themselves "by streams of water," as Psalm 1 puts it! Truly, then, they would "yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves [would] not wither." The pre-eminent place to discover this sense of spiritual rootedness is in worship. We come to worship by way of the baptismal font: "streams of water" indeed. Worship may seem to be a strange new world, when first we're getting to know it; yet over the long term, it is very much like planting ourselves by streams of water. It's not that any one worship service makes the difference, for most of us ? that pushes us decisively over the edge, from unbelief into faith. No, it's more of a slow, gradual process, for worship is a habit, cultivated over many, many years. It's the very habitual nature of worship that gives our faith staying power, enables us, as Christians, to weather life's turmoil and tribulations. You and I aren't meant to come to church only when we're hurting, only when we need to hear that special word of healing and wholeness. No, you and I are meant to worship regularly ? to "pray without ceasing," as the scriptures encourage. We "are meant for God," as the book of Job puts it, "as the sparks fly upward." In a certain sense, worship is like a spiritual health club. Dashing down once or twice a year to the health spa, to pump iron and jog around a track, won't accomplish a blessed thing for our physical conditioning; it may even do harm, if we aren't careful. By the same token, sporadic attendance at worship may leave us feeling more like strangers than those who are in intimate relationship with Jesus Christ. If, as the Psalmist puts it, we are to be "planted by water, sending out [our] roots by the stream," you and I do well to take seriously the spiritual reality of baptism. The waters of the font are those by which we are planted. The very function of roots is to soak up and retain water, cool, life-giving, refreshing water. A glass of ice water on a hot and sultry day brings comfort. The roaring beauty of a waterfall is a picture of strength and power; the sheer, sensual pleasure of a hot shower first thing in the morning is a reminder of cleansing and new life. The pristine beauty of a fresh snowfall is an image of purity, a thick, soft blanket that protects life, even in the coldest of winters. Water is a thing of power, as it freezes and expands, as it thunders over the spillway of a hydroelectric dam. Water can wear down the strongest of rocks, and it can scoop out a canyon. Water has power to mold and to smooth,? as a potter knows, moistening a cracked lump of clay, working it on the wheel, transforming the ordinary into a thing of wonder. Through the capillaries of its root system, a tree takes water into its very self, transporting it all the way up the mighty trunk to the leaves. If its roots weren't sunk deep into the ground, a tree could never survive on the fickle sprinkling of rain-showers. It needs to tap into the great underground springs that flow beneath the desert sands. It needs to be "planted by water." Worship Resources By Chuck Cammarata CALL TO WORSHIP One approach to the call to worship is to use Psalm 133. The following is based on Eugene Petersen's translation, The Message. LEADER: How wonderful, how beautiful PEOPLE: WHEN BROTHERS AND SISTERS GET ALONG. LEADER: It's like costly anointing oil PEOPLE: FLOWING OVER HEAD AND BEARD. LEADER: It's like dew on the mountains, PEOPLE: FLOWING DOWN THE SLOPES OF ZION. LEADER: That is where God commands the blessing, PEOPLE: AND ORDAINS ETERNAL LIFE. LEADER: Amen. An alternative approach: LEADER: Brothers! PEOPLE: SISTERS! LEADER: In all our glorious differences; PEOPLE: ALL THE COLORS OF THE RAINBOW; LEADER: All the sizes on the shelf; PEOPLE: ALL THE TALENTS ONE CAN IMAGINE; LEADER: A plethora of personalities; PEOPLE: DIVERSE POJNTS OF VIEW; LEADER: And yet ... PEOPLE: AND YET ... LEADER: Made one in the love PEOPLE: AND POWER LEADER: Of God PEOPLE: THROUGH CHRIST. LEADER: Come, let us celebrate the diversity of creation, PEOPLE: AND ONENESS IN CHRIST. LEADER: Amen. PRAYER OF CONFESSION LEADER: Nitpicking, PEOPLE: CRITICISM, LEADER: Contentiousness, PEOPLE: GOSSIP, LEADER: Judgmentalism, PEOPLE: ARGUMENT, LEADER: Grudge holding, PEOPLE: DIVISION. LEADER: This is the face of Christ we present to the world. PEOPLE: LORD -- FORGIVE US! LEADER: Forgive us the selfishness that puts minor doctrinal positions above love. PEOPLE: FORGIVE US THE SIN OF SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS. LEADER: Teach us to celebrate variety, PEOPLE: WHILE EMBRACING ONENESS. LEADER: For while gifts are many, PEOPLE: WE ARE ONE BODY. ASSURANCE OF PARDON Rather than an assurance of pardon you may want to sing a hymn that celebrates variety in unity -- something like, "They Will Know We Are Christians by Our Love." PASTORAL PRAYER God of us all -- in an era that celebrates individualism -- which tells us to look out for number one, and to put ourselves first -- we are confronted by a Christ who calls us to die to ourselves, to love our enemies, and even to be willing to give our lives for our friends. It is a call to community, to put others before ourselves, to share all that we have, to be part of something bigger than ourselves so that the world may see in us a love that overcomes our inevitable differences and weaves us together into an awesomely beautiful tapestry of love. Help us today to set aside differences of politics, and ideology, and temperament, and doctrine, and embrace one another -- not because our differences are meaningless -- but because Your love -- O Lord -- is greater than any of our differences. In the name of our one and only Lord -- Jesus Christ -- Amen. CREED This would be a good Sunday to use The Apostles' or Nicene Creed. They both confess a faith that nearly all Christians affirm. An introduction that points out to our people the nearly universal agreement on these fundamental creeds would remind them that Protestant and Catholic -- conservative and liberal -- we hold the fundamentals in common. A responsive Apostles' Creed follows. Introduction to the creed Seventeen centuries ago a statement of the Christian faith was produced that proclaimed the foundational beliefs of the early church. This statement, which we know as the Apostles' Creed, has been accepted and confessed by nearly all Christians for untold generations. It speaks of the things that we all -- Protestant and Catholic -- conservative and liberal -- we all proclaim to be true. Though our differences are real -- the truths we confess this morning are bigger than any difference. Come, let us proclaim our common faith. LEADER: We believe in God. PEOPLE: THE FATHER, LEADER: Almighty! PEOPLE: MAKER OF HEAVEN AND EARTH. LEADER: And in Jesus Christ His only son, PEOPLE: OUR LORD; LEADER: Who was conceived by the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, PEOPLE: WAS CRUCIFIED, DEAD, AND BURIED. LEADER: He descended into hell; but PEOPLE: THE THIRD DAY HE AROSE AGAIN FROM THE DEAD. LEADER: He ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand of God, PEOPLE: THE FATHER ALMIGHTY, LEADER: From thence he shall come to judge PEOPLE: THE LIVING AND THE DEAD. LEADER: We believe in the Holy Spirit, PEOPLE: THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH, LEADER: The communion of saints, PEOPLE: THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS LEADER: The resurrection of the body, PEOPLE: AND THE LIFE EVERLASTING! LEADER: Amen. PEOPLE: AMEN. HYMNS AND SONGS They Will Know We Are Christians by Our Love One Bread, One Body Blest Be the Tie that Binds Come, Christians, Join to Sing In Christ There Is No East or West Let Us Break Bread Together The Church's One Foundation PRAYER FOR ILLUMINATION Bread of Heaven -- as we feed on your Word this morning -- weave the magic of your love deeper into the fabric of our hearts and minds that we might be transformed from a collection of selfish individuals into a unit working together to serve the cause of Christ in the world. Amen. A Children's Sermon By Wesley Runk Acts 1:15-17, 21-26 Text: "Then they prayed and said, 'Lord, you know everyone's heart. Show us which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.'" (vv. 24-25) Object: 12 objects (blocks, coins, books, pencils) Good morning, boys and girls. Today we are going to learn about working together. Is there anyone here that likes to do things all by themselves? (let them answer) Would you like to go to school by yourself? (let them answer) Would you like to play by yourself? (let them answer) Would you like to work by yourself? (let them answer.) The answer is no! We like to do things with each other. It is not only fun, but it is also better for us when we are doing things together. Let me tell you about something that happened after Jesus died and see if you understand how the disciples felt. When
A lot of Americans are seeing their paychecks shrinking. Many others are out of work and having a much harder time than they ever imagined finding a new job. Here at The Immediate Word, it strikes us that this is a time to reaffirm the dependence on one another that has always characterized the church community when it is at its best.
So for this week's installment, we've asked team member Carter Shelley to use the lectionary texts found in Psalm 1 and Acts 1:15-17, 21-26, to explore ways Christians can embody true community.
Since some of you will choose to observe Ascension this Sunday, we have also included a sermon from team member George L. Murphy on that topic (it's a cool sci-fi approach!). And then, just for good measure, we've also provided an additional sermon on Psalm 1, by team member Carlos Wilton.
Naturally, we've also supplied, as usual, team comments, related illustrations, worship resources, and a children's sermon.
American Individualism and Christian Community:
Contradiction, Compromise, or Challenge?
By Carter Shelley
Psalm 1
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26
The Psalmist emphasizes obedience to the Torah as the route to prosperity and righteousness for God's faithful. In the Old Testament earthly prosperity was understood as a sign of God's approval. The prosperous individual not only lived the right kind of life, but also he or she was the right kind of person: pious, selfless, law-abiding. This person is happy to be among "the congregation of the righteous."
A key phrase in the Declaration of Independence is the individual's right to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Psalm 1 declares such happiness is not possible apart from God. Only those who obey the law of God and "are constantly open to God's instruction" will be truly happy. The entire psalm is a comparison between the righteous and the wicked. The former obey the law and have the good fortune to be connected to God and to be in community with others "in the congregation of the righteous" while the wicked like chaff are blown away by the wind and will perish.1
This Sunday's lesson from Acts provides a vital link between Jesus' ascension and the bestowing of the Holy Spirit. Three groups of people, all of whom witnessed Jesus' earthly ministry, must be identified and sanctioned for the work the Holy Spirit will inspire them to do. The death of Judas the betrayer has left a gap among the first group, Jesus' disciples. Matthias is added to their number to restore their number to 12 men, reminiscent of the 12 patriarchs of Israel. From this point on these men will be called "apostles," a term used by Luke solely to identify those who knew Jesus personally and witnessed his resurrection. In Acts, Paul is never called an apostle, because he does not share this credential. The second group identified includes some women, Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers. These individuals are understood to have been people open to God's revelations and promises evident in Jesus Christ during his lifetime. In the case of Mary, she committed herself to his life and work before he was even born. The third group consists of other witnesses to Jesus' life and ministry. The number 120 carries significance because a town or village had to have 120 individuals as residents before it could establish a Sanhedrin and synagogue. Thus, the worship community soon to begin harkens back to accepted standards for religious practices.
What do these two texts say that connects them with today's Immediate Word? The Psalmist in Psalm 1 and the first Christians presented in Acts 1:15-17, 21-26 emphasize dependence and community over against individualism. The Psalmist understands that true sustenance and support can only be found in acknowledging one's dependence upon God and living a faithful, obedient life. In Acts, the earliest Christians quickly realize they must add other disciples to their depleted numbers in order to more effectively share the Gospel. Such an act affirms at the outset Christianity's commitment to community over individualism and the need the early church had to establish a communal base for validation, evangelism, and mutual support.
In exploring the relationship between American individualism and Christian community, it may be helpful to define both terms in the sense Webster's Dictionary offers and in our own general understanding of each. The word "individualism" describes "a doctrine that the interests of the individual are or ought to be ethically paramount"; along with that goes the notion "that all values, rights and duties originate in individuals" with a strong emphasis upon the "political and economic independence of the individual and stressing individual initiative, action and interests."2
American individualism in its best sense refers to a sense of self-confidence, a sense of the self as someone who can be a success, make something of his or her life if the person has ambition and a vision and works hard. Modern individual success stories include that of author Stephen King raised by a single mother who struggled for every dime she earned, Sandra Day O'Connor who found something positive in every professional setback she faced as lawyer and mother before being rewarded with a seat on the Supreme Court, and Bill Gates who left Harvard before earning his degree in order to concentrate on computers full time.
American individualism at its worst is described in Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life3:
... once there was a language of sin and redemption, there is now a the therapeutic language of the self, a radical self which is encouraged by the therapeutic mode to consider one's self and one's happiness as paramount and thus mirrors and supports the ideology of the free market.4
For many prosperous Americans, the primary commitment has become a commitment to the self, as in, "I have to take care of my needs and find myself before I can think about anyone else's needs." For me, this type of American individualism describes almost any character in any Woody Allen movie where the lives of well-to-do, self-absorbed, unfaithful, unproductive, whiny individuals hold forth.
Webster's Seventh Collegiate Dictionary defines "community" as "a unified body of individuals ... people with common interests ... a group of people with common characteristics or interest living together within a larger society; a group linked by a common policy" or "fellowship."
Our notion of Christian community begins with those described in the book of Acts. The church is a place where societal norms and prejudices are forgotten. The rich and the poor pool their resources so that all may have enough to eat. Though a subject of much debate and controversy, the church becomes a community where Jewish and Gentile Christians rub shoulders and call one another sister and brother. The traditional household rules (wives be subject to your husbands, etc.) that reassert themselves in Colossians do not apply. Women may be leaders, slaves are affirmed as whole persons, and decisions are made through prayer and collaboration. It is not a place where the self comes first. In fact the unifying feature that all share is their faith in Jesus Christ and their desire to embody God's kingdom on earth as outlined in Jesus' ministry. "Blessed are the poor ... blessed are the peacemakers ... turn the other cheek ... forgive seven times seven ... whoever asks for your cloak, give him your shirt as well"-- these are hardly a manifesto touted by Donald Trump or the executives of American Airlines.
Time magazine's lead article for May 25, 2003, concerns the rise of unemployment and shrinking paychecks in our great nation. More than 500,000 workers have been laid off since January. As Time so poignantly describes it, American workers at all levels -- on the factory floor, in the cubicles and at the corner offices -- are working more hours for less pay than ever before in post-World War II America.
Because we are a nation founded on the notion that hard word is always rewarded, those who lose their jobs frequently get ignored due to embarrassment about their situation or our own helplessness in knowing how to reach out. The American mindset is based upon the assumption that hard work and careful saving are the road to success and independence. The downside of American individualism is that we hold people responsible for things that aren't their fault. Because of our belief that individual hard work and independence pay off, it goes against our image of ourselves to ask another for help or admit that we need it. Better to fret about mortgage payments, grocery bills, and gas by ourselves than to admit that we need the economic and emotional support of our fellow Christians.
That leaves us with a problem. Raised to value individualism and independence, how are American Christians to respond to others in our current economic hard times?
While observations up to this point may imply an either/or distinction between American individualism and Christian community, it isn't that simple. For good or for ill, all of us here today live with and embody both affirmations. Moreover, the way they relate varies. Sometimes the values of one contradict the values of the other. Sometimes a compromise between them is required. At all times, it is to be hoped that the latter vision will challenge the former.
Contradictions
There are many ways to discuss the contradictions that exist between American individualism and Christian community. The idea of "my way or the highway" in business management is certainly a familiar one. The fame and recognition that someone receives for making "deals" and large amounts of money which he then spends on flashy mansions and beautiful women certainly have nothing in common with the vision of community modeled by the first-century church. Capitalism itself is based upon the notion that one fights one's way to the top through squelching the competition -- think of Wal-Mart underpricing small shops into oblivion or the robber barons like John D. Rockefeller and Andrew Carneige who underpaid, overworked, and exploited their employees for years before each man turned to philanthropy.
Yet part of becoming an adult is learning to live with contradictions. We affirm that Jesus is both human and divine. We know that the only way one can establish "good credit" in our country is by borrowing money and then paying it back. Thus, we need ways to take the seeming contradiction of American individualism and Christian community and create from it something better than the sum of their parts.
Compromise
With unemployment figures higher than they've been in years, it is no wonder many workers are accepting pay cuts and extra work in order to hang on to their jobs. In many instances, employees also have had to accept pay freezes and reductions in bonuses and overtime, or worse yet, reductions in or removal of health coverage and pensions. As a rule, most employees have taken a "we're in this together" attitude to the salary and benefit cuts companies have required. The notion of "I give up a little and you give up a little" works when such compromise keeps businesses afloat. When a company such as AMR, the parent company of American Airlines, expects $9 billion dollar wage "giveback" from its union employees to keep the airline from going under and simultaneously approves $41 million dollars in pension guarantees for its top executives, both the workers and the idea of compromise are betrayed.
In book 4 of the Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, a yearlong competition called the Triwizard Cup has taken place between the four school champions. After facing fire-breathing dragons and underwater rescues in the first two competitions, the champions face an incredible maze. Then, surviving many tricks and dangers to each from the goblet of fire, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory arrive at the prize simultaneously. Both want to be the school champion. Both want to win. But both are there. What should they do? As they debate what to do, the two teens establish community between themselves, each caring for the other's welfare as well as his own.
I'm embarrassed to admit that the way author J.K. Rowling resolves the dilemma caught me by surprise:
Harry looked from Cedric to the cup. For one shining moment, he saw himself emerging from the maze, holding it. He saw himself holding the Triwizard Cup aloft, heard the roar of the crowd, saw Cho's face shining with admiration, more clearly than he had ever seen it before ... and then the picture faded, and he found himself staring at Cedric's shadowy, stubborn face.
"Both of us," Harry said.
"What?"
"We'll take it at the same time. It's still Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."
Cedric stared at Harry. He unfolded his arms.
"You -- you're sure?"
"Yeah," said Harry, "Yeah ... we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together."
For a moment, Cedric looked as though he couldn't believe his ears; then his face split into a grin.
"You're on," he said. "Come here."
He grabbed Harry's arm below the shoulder and helped Harry limp toward the plinth where the cup stood. When they had reached it, they both held a hand out over one of the cup's gleaming handles.
"On three, right?" said Harry. "One -- two -- three."
He and Cedric both grasped a handle.5 (634-635).
Neither one will win outright. Neither one will win individually. They will share the honor. Thus, both take hold of one side of the goblet at the same time so both will win.
Challenge
Maintaining community in an individualistic culture takes intentional action and remains a challenge. John F. Kennedy's inaugural challenge, "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country," inspired many in the 1960s to work for Civil Rights or in the Peace Corps as a way of finding meaning outside one's individual goals and ambitions.
American dollar bills and coins all possess the inscription, "In God we trust." It's significant that it's not "In God I trust," but the plural. In other words, we are in this thing together -- albeit at times reluctantly. When President Bush declares us a Christian nation determined to rid the world of the axis of evil, I cringe at the smug sanctimony that seems to assume all evils are external, and none are possessed by you or me. As a diehard Democrat, I didn't support the war with Iraq, and I'm afraid the tax cuts and budget deficit our government just approved may bankrupt our nation, not rescue it. But I am a citizen of this country, and like it or not I need you and other Christian citizens to temper my frustrations and help find workable solutions within the current economic hard times.
With high unemployment, high job stress, and a high fear level among working Americans, it's hard to feel hopeful or find creative solutions. It's also very hard to maintain a sense of self when one's identity and value are wrapped up in a job one may no longer have.
The positive side of American citizenship and community is represented in a documentary about spelling bees currently showing in movie theaters. Spellbound follows the hard work, twists and turns, and challenges a number of American youngsters encounter in order to reach the National Spelling Bee finals. It is also an example of the American dream fulfilled. Two of the key contestants are first generation Americans whose parents moved to the United States from India and Mexico respectively. A third contestant is an African-American teen raised in urban poverty. While only one of the contestants can win, all of these youngsters already are heroes and success stories. They have learned how to believe in themselves and to work hard for a better future.
To maintain a sense of self, goals, hopes, dreams, and personality while working toward a greater good is a challenge that depends upon American individualism and Christian community working hand-in-hand.
There are a number of important theological affirmations that one can make.
Both biblical texts imply that what is most important to God is what really matters in life. For the Psalmist what is most important is obedience to the law or Torah, which can be understood as "particular legal stipulations" or as "the entire tradition of God's revelation."6 In Luke's account in this first chapter of Acts, what is most important is for those who have experienced Jesus' teaching and resurrection firsthand to prepare themselves for the giving of the Holy Spirit and for their spreading of the Good News of Jesus Christ. God first challenges those who knew Jesus best: his disciples, women, immediate family members such as Jesus' mother and brothers, and those who witnessed Jesus' ministry personally. Their purpose is not self-actualization, personal ambition, or the acquisition of material goods, but the spreading of the Good News of Jesus Christ. Service to God is paramount in both instances. But note, such service begins within the framework of a community in which the members support one another.
In his book The Message of the Psalms Walter Brueggeman observes:
Psalm 1 does not bargain or allow for ambiguity. It is the voice of a community that is familiar with risks, dangers, costs, and boundaries. It fully appreciates the givenness of God's world and has confidence that the Torah is the only thinkable response to the givenness of creation. It probably is also a tract for socialization, by which the adult community firmly conditions the young into right morality. This community trusts its morality to be a way to fend off trouble. It is life and death, and the young had better learn it while there is time7 (39).
Christ calls us to be in community with one another. "The quality of life we enjoy will be determined by the quality of community we build, at home, where we work, where we study, where we play" writes author and lecturer Clifton L. Taulbert8, best known for his memoir Once Upon a Time When We Were Colored, which has been made into the movie Back When We Were Colored. Taulbert is the president and founder of Building Community Institute in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Taulbert identifies eight key features that are needed for successful community. He discusses each in his book Eight Habits of the Heart: The Timeless Values that Build Strong Communities. In this book, with its intentional allusion to Bellah, et al's earlier work, Taulbert identifies eight ways people can establish and maintain community. They are:
1) a nurturing attitude,
2) responsibility,
3) dependability,
4) friendship,
5) brotherhood (sic),
6) high expectations,
7) courage, and
8) hope9 (ww.utsa.edu/slcp/8habits.
While it may not be practical to explore all eight characteristics in one sermon, the concreteness of this list offers room for rich reflection.
We know why individuality matters -- we need a sense of our own worth to God and to others in order to be separate and distinct. There must be a self before there can be an other. To put it in the words of a theologian, there must be an I/Thou relationship or there is no relationship at all.
Community also matters. Community offers a place of support. In the movie The Full Monty, based upon the humorous premise that a bunch of ordinary guys, laid off from their jobs, could successfully convert themselves into sexy male strippers, the point is not the dance steps they learn or whether they go the "full Monty" when they finally perform. The real point is the group project gets them out of their individual depressions. It gives them both community and a purpose, something to work for and believe in at a time when they feel useless and irrelevant.
Early on in my ministry I was the Associate Minister of a downtown church in which a third of the membership was 65 or older. More than 75 percent of them were single or single-again women: widows, never married, or divorced. What I learned from this church was how important community was to these older single women. They checked up on each other, offered car rides to those without transportation, made sure someone called to find out what caused one lady or other to miss a church circle meeting or Sunday morning worship. They took excellent care of one another. They did it because they wanted to, but it was also a necessity.
One of the strongest lobbies in Washington is the AARP -- American Association of Retired People. It even gives the gun lobby a run for its money in terms of clout and influence. The idea of AARP is that American citizens over 50 years of age must protect each other if we are to protect ourselves.
We all know there is strength in numbers. The church is a place to be supported and comforted, but also a place to be challenged -- I am not always right in my opinions or actions any more than you are. We need one another as a corrective and a challenge. More heads are more creative than one. This website is a case in point. My own preaching is so much richer, thanks to the shared talents and expertise my Immediate Word colleagues bring to the preaching and worship task. I could never find all the excellent illustrations, insights, or different ways of approaching each week's text that I encounter through collaboration.
American individualism and Christian community -- they don't have to be mutually exclusive. To attain the best from both we look to the Word of God for guidance and the community of faith for a model; then we need to look for ways to turn contradictions into challenges and compromises into collaborations -- all dedicated to the service of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Notes
1 The Access Bible, Psalms, McCann 681.
2 Webster's Seventh Collegiate Dictionary.
3 Robert Bellah, et al.
4 Book Review by panopticonman on Amazon.com, May 26, 2003, p. 5 of 11.
5 634-635.
6 McCann 681.
7 39.
8 www.olemiss.edu/mwp/dir/taulbert_clifton.
9 www.utsa.edu/slcp/8habits.
Team Comments
Stan Purdum responds: I have to confess that I found this a slower start than most of your other work in The Immediate Word, and I think it is because you jumped immediately into the text, telling me, the reader, "First you have to read some commentary." The material from Time and the individualism stuff is much more interesting as an opener to persuade me to keep reading. Any chance of re-arranging the material and leading with the shrinking paychecks?
George Murphy responds: I agree with Stan about the slow start. Beginning with the text is often okay, but here I think it would be better to kick it off with the current issues.
It's often said that Luke never calls Paul an apostle, but he does (with Barnabas) in Acts 14:4 and14.
It's worth noting that there is no use of "saint" to refer to an individual in the New Testament. (The only occurrence in the singular, "every saint" in Philippians 4:21, has a plural sense.)
There is a strong current of equality between genders in the New Testament, especially Galatians 3:28. But there are also -- as you note -- the "tables of duties" like those in Colossians which point in a different direction. It would take us off on a tangent to deal with this in detail, but the tension between these two tendencies in the canon does need to be dealt with.
Along with the fact that the motto "In God we trust" is plural, it's even more significant for Christians that the Lord's Prayer is plural. We don't pray "Give me this day my daily bread."
I think that one of the most problematic aspects of American individualism in the political realm is the unwillingness to pay taxes for the common good. "Tax cuts" is a magic formula and schools have to struggle to get people to pay taxes to support public education. (We just lost a vote for school construction in my community this month.) Of course, the main reason for that is that people just want to keep their money, and that's especially the case in difficult economic times like the present. But that's exacerbated by their inability to see that people do need to pay their share for the welfare of everybody. ("Why would anyone vote to increase their taxes?" I heard one local man ask in genuine puzzlement.)
But a more basic problem is the way American Christians -- and especially Protestants -- view church membership. I think many see the church as a kind of interest group, a gathering of like-minded people that one joins or leaves as one wishes. That's quite different from the picture of an organic community that the New Testament gives with the image especially of the church as the Body of Christ into which people are incorporated by the Holy Spirit.
An Ascension Day Sermon -- a science-fiction approach
By George L. Murphy
(Note: By way of explanation, "The Body of Christ, the bread of heaven," is part of the usual Episcopalian distribution formula.)
The Bread of Heaven
Acts 1:1-11
"This could be kind of embarrassing!" she thought as she looked at the computer screen and read the text from Acts that she needed to preach some kind of homily on that evening: "When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight." Of course, she'd read this story of the Ascension of Jesus many times before and had even preached on it. She'd been ordained for 10 years now. But this time it was different.
Now she wasn't in a seminary library or in her study in a parish church. Instead she was sitting at a messy desk in a biochemistry laboratory on the planet Mars, a laboratory that represented her day job. It was here that she analyzed samples of air and soil and water in order to provide data that would help in judging the progress of the massive project of terraforming the planet. The fact that she was also a pastor and could serve as a Christian chaplain for the scientists and engineers engaged in this project had been, she knew perfectly well, something of an afterthought. Pastoral care and preaching and theology were hardly the highest priorities for the Extraterrestrial Development Agency of the U.N. It was fortunate that they'd been interested in providing any religious leadership at all.
And now one of the members of the small ecumenical congregation had brightly pointed out a few days ago that it would soon be the Feast of the Ascension, and that it would be nice to have a service in the evening. She hadn't bothered to say that since they were now on another planet with a different orbital period and rotation rate, it was completely artificial to say that this was the 40th day after Easter. But you didn't want to discourage people who have a desire to worship, and she'd agreed. So here she was at her lunch hour, looking over the texts and realizing how archaic they seemed in this context.
"He was lifted up" -- just as the old paintings of the Ascension showed it, Jesus floating up to the sky. "And a cloud took him out of their sight" -- as if heaven were just a few kilometers above the earth, hidden behind some bits of water vapor! And here she was on Mars, able to go out and see the earth as a bright star a hundred million kilometers distant. She could look out through the thin Martian atmosphere and see star clusters tens of thousands of light years distant. How did Jesus lifting up from the earth to be "seated at the right hand of the Father" fit into that picture?
Oh, of course, the cloud is a symbol of the presence of God. Jesus didn't really rise up like a balloon to sit down on a throne somewhere out in space. It wasn't that her faith depended on the literal truth of any of those pictures -- but how were you supposed to talk about it? What did this story of the Ascension really have that meant anything today when people were traveling through a much vaster universe than those writers of the Bible were aware of?
Well, maybe there were some other texts in the Bible that would be more helpful than that one from Acts. She said, "Search, ascend," and a list of verses appeared on the screen. Hmm, this one from Ephesians 4 is interesting. "He who descended is the same one who ascended far above all heavens, so that he might fill all things." That's a little better -- Christ being present throughout the universe. But it's still not very easy to picture. Because after all, we're talking about Jesus, the one who showed the disciples the marks of the nails. And if we believe that the body that hung on the cross was really raised from the dead, then somehow we have to talk about the presence of that body.
That's the real problem -- where's the body? Where is Jesus? He is not just an idea or a memory but an embodied person. I need to be able to say that in a way that makes sense here and now, A.D. 2251 on Mars. But how?
She didn't get much beyond that and soon had to go back to work in the lab, trying to see how well some of the microorganisms they'd introduced were surviving the frigid Martian climate. And when the small group of Christians gathered that evening, she didn't feel that she had anything very profound to say. The room was dark when they entered, and the view through the thick window, with sharp unwinking stars looking down on the harsh desert, reminded them all that they were no longer on the home planet. One of Mars' tiny moons could be seen moving across the sky. The homily said little about the Ascension itself and nothing about the body, and spoke instead about the promise of the Spirit. It was, the homilist felt, pretty feeble.
But now it was time for the meal with its familiar words. "The Lord be with you. And also with you." Words that carried their own meaning, even if you weren't thinking about every one of them, if you didn't understand all of them. "Heaven and earth are full of your glory" -- and at that a couple of people glanced at the window, thinking of that stark land-and star-scape.
Then the most familiar words of all -- "Our Lord Jesus Christ took bread" -- she raised the loaf -- "Take and eat: This is my Body" -- and stopped. It was one of those moments that seem like hours though the clock ticks only once. "This is my Body which is given for you. You need not understand the fullness of my new and unending life, a life that you too will share. It is indeed far above all heavens and fills all things. 'A little while, and you will see me no more' and 'I am with you always, to the close of the age.' And because I fill all things, there is no place where you cannot take bread and wine and say, 'This is my Body, this cup is the new covenant in my blood.' Do not worry about where I am when you are not there. Be assured that I am here for you in this action, wherever you may be."
The moment passed, and somehow she was able to end the prayer. And as each of the members of the congregation came forward she broke a piece from the loaf, placed it in the person's hand, and said, "The Body of Christ, the bread of heaven."
A Sermon on Psalm 1
By Carlos E. Wilton
"Roots"
Psalm 1; Ephesians 4:7, 11-16
"They are like trees, planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season..."
--Psalm 1:3a
One of the great Christian storytellers of our time was a Jesuit priest from India, by the name of Anthony de Mello. One of de Mello's many parables is about a woman who was in a coma, and dying. As the woman lay there on her sickbed, she was barely aware of her surroundings ... but then, suddenly, she had a feeling that she had been taken up to heaven, and was standing before the judgment seat of God.
She could see nothing, only clouds of dark smoke: but then out of the ponderous silence came a voice. "Who are you?" boomed the Voice.
Not knowing what else to say, she turned to the answer she had used most often in life. "I'm the wife of the mayor," she replied.
"I did not ask you whose wife you are, but who you are."
"I'm the mother of four children," she continued.
Again came the answer: "I did not ask whose mother you are, but who you are."
"I'm a schoolteacher."
"I did not ask you what your profession is, but who you are."
And so it went. The same question repeated, over and over -- but no matter what the woman replied, her answer was unacceptable.
Finally, she thought to try another answer: "I'm a Christian," she said.
But that, too, was unacceptable: "I did not ask what your religion is, but who you are."
"I'm the one who went to church every week, and always helped the poor and needy."
"I did not ask you what you did, but who you are."
De Mello concludes his parable by observing that the woman evidently failed the examination, for she was sent back to earth. Soon after, she awakes from her coma, and resumes her life. But something's different. Something's changed about her. From that day forward, the woman resolves to discover who she is. And that, the storyteller concludes, makes all the difference. (As told in The Prayer of the Frog.)
So who are you -- really?
Strip away all those layers you have spent your life carefully building up -- all those labels, those titles, those definitions -- and what's left? What is the essential core of yourself that God sees?
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There is a rich tradition in the Hebrew scriptures that specializes in helping people like you and me uncover who we are. It's known as wisdom literature. The heart of wisdom literature is the Book of Psalms -- and in the very beginning of that book, we have a wonderful, wonderful song that steps back and takes a long look at this human life of ours, and what it means.
Psalm 1 is the introduction to the Book of Psalms. It has long been a favorite of rabbis who like to use it with their very youngest students, those children just starting out to study the scriptures. Psalm 1 provides a road map of what's ahead. Psalm 1 provides the frame around the picture: it defines the boundaries of the spiritual life.
It begins on a positive note: "Happy are those ..." Other translations say, "Blessed are those ..." It doesn't much matter: happiness ... blessedness ... they both mean pretty much the same thing.
"Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked." That would seem to be a no-brainer. Who, after all, wants to be on the wrong side -- to be one of the villain's henchmen (or henchwomen)? Nobody, watching Wars, yearns to be an Imperial Storm Trooper; or, watching The Wizard of Oz, desires, in their heart of hearts, to join the Wicked Witch's Flying Monkey Brigade!
"The advice of the wicked" is easy to shun when it comes from movie villains: from characters dressed all in black, who rub their hands together a lot and hiss when they speak. But the problem is, in the real world wickedness rarely clothes itself in black. It looks attractive, appealing, comfortable.
"The advice of the wicked" simply refers to the prevailing value system promoted by an unbelieving world. It's the sort of message the media doles out to us every day -- especially in big-budget advertising. We've all heard the siren-song:
Acquire more ...
Be more successful ...
Look younger and sexier ...
Don't get mad, get even with those who hurt you ...
Pursue personal happiness at all costs ...
Go ahead, use other people to get what you want (they'd do the same, in your place)...
There was a gasoline company that marketed its fuel with this slogan: "We will help you move faster!" (Who said moving faster is always a good thing?) There was a magazine ad that proclaimed, "If money can't buy happiness, consider leasing it." The ad was promoting luxury cars. This sort of thing is what the psalmist truly means by "the advice of the wicked."
All day long, we're fairly bombarded with advice like that. And it's bad advice! It's setting us up for failure (for who can buy or achieve everything touted by the advertisers?). It's shaping the way we think, molding our desires and even our values.
ßßß
"Happy are those who do not ... take the path that sinners tread." Now this is one step beyond simply listening to "the advice of the wicked." It's getting up and doing what they do, adapting our lifestyle to fit not the way of Jesus Christ, but the way of the world around us.
The Hebrew word for "sinner," used here by the psalmist, doesn't refer to a person who's bad to the core. Literally, it means a person who has missed the mark: like an archer who has aimed for the target, but has sent the arrow flying off into the woods.
You and I don't have to look far to see plenty of people who are "missing the mark" today. They're shooting at the wrong target, pursing the wrong goals. They're caught up in what is often referred to as "the rat race" of material achievement, of seeking pleasure for themselves, no matter what it may cost to those around them -- even to those they love. Yet so strong can the herd impulse be, among all those racing rats, that it's difficult for those standing on the sidelines not to join in. That's what it means to "take the path that sinners tread."
There's the third step in the slow, downward spiral laid out by the psalmist: to "sit in the seat of the scoffers." Scoffers are cynics: those who, in Oscar Wilde's words, "know the price of everything and the value of nothing." I remembered having read somewhere that the word "cynic" comes from the Greek word for "dog," and when I looked it up in the dictionary, I found this description: "Having the qualities of a surly dog; snarling; captious; currish."
Few things are easier, in life, than sitting back and mocking those things that have true value. There are some among our neighbors who mock what we do here: who see no value in worship, who always question the motives of those who seek to do good for others. Boldly they proclaim that they avoid the church because there are too many hypocrites in it -- though it's interesting to note that they don't stop using dollar bills because there are counterfeits in circulation! When they hear Christians speak publicly of their faith, the scoffers deride them as "holier-than-thou" types. They pounce eagerly on every muckraking news story of a religious leader who falls into sin, imagining that this somehow discredits the whole of Christian faith -- forgetting that Christianity has proclaimed all along that sin is seductive and dangerous.
So appealing can be the cynics' mocking song, that before long, we may even find ourselves humming it. You or I may avoid mentioning to others, in casual conversation, that we're Christians. When the neighbors or co-workers pull their calendars out to plan a recreational event, and Sunday morning's mentioned, it's easy to silently pencil it in. When the popular kid in the high school sings the praises of some music video that mocks Christianity, it sometimes seems the wiser course to say nothing. Then, one day, we may sit up straight and realize that a great chasm has grown between our Monday-through-Saturday lives, and what we do within these four walls. Then, it will be clear that the scoffers have won.
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It's an easy, gently-sloping road from hearing "the advice of the wicked" to "taking the path that sinners tread," to actually sitting "in the seat of scoffers." But the one good thing about that road is that it's not one-way. It's possible to turn, and head the other direction.
The rest of Psalm 1 -- most of it, anyway -- is about how to act positively to strengthen our spiritual lives. The people who are truly "happy" or "blessed" are those "whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and on [that] law they meditate, day and night."
Then the psalmist provides us with a beautiful image that captures in a deeply poetic way what it means to be a person of God:
They are like trees planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in its season,
and their leaves do not wither.
In all that they do, they prosper.
Do you know what's the most important part of a tree? Ask any landscaper who's in the business of transplanting trees, and you'll find out right quick: it's the roots. When planting a tree, landscapers take inordinate trouble to make sure that the root-ball stays tightly packed and moist -- that it gets into the right kind of soil, and at the right depth. All kinds of damage can happen, in transit, to the trunk or branches or leaves, but as long as the roots are intact, there's hope for recovery and growth. Yet if the roots are destroyed, the tree will die.
The psalmist sings of a tree "planted by streams of water." Its roots, in other words, are sunk in the best possible place. Thirstily they drink up the life-giving water, and even if a drought may afflict the land, this tree will survive and flourish.
There's a clear metaphor, here, of the spiritual life -- and those ancient rabbis would always take pains to be sure their young students understood it well. The study of God's word they were about to undertake would be, for them, like sinking their roots into moist soil. The more they immersed themselves in the scriptures, the more they would find power for living.
It is important that we study the faith. It's something we haven't done such a good job on, when it comes to adults. So convinced are we of the importance of Christian education for children and youth that we often have a whole, separate building for it; but we've put just a fraction of our human and financial resources into adult education. It's almost as though we believed that, after confirmation, there's nothing left to learn; just show up in worship and listen to a sermon every once in a while -- a sermon that's shorter in duration than even a TV sitcom -- and you're doing all you need do to nurture your own faith.
The author of Psalm 1 would declare how wrong such thinking is! On the law of God, he says, do the righteous meditate -- day and night. The word "meditate" is derived from the word for "murmur": it refers to the practice of repeating a biblical text over and over again to oneself, to commit it to memory -- as the orthodox Jews do, in their worship, even today.
What kind of meditations -- what kind of murmurings -- fill our minds, each day? Is it the shopping list? Or the quiz on Monday? Or the memo from the boss? Or -- worst of all -- the advertising jingle? When was the last time most of us truly pondered and reflected on God's word, made that meditation and reflection a major part of our lives?
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There is an alternative -- and don't worry, I'm not going to say a jealous God's going to zap you with a thunderbolt. There's no need for that: because, as the psalmist indicates, neglecting the scriptures carries its own reward.
The consequence is inevitable: "The wicked" -- for so he labels all those who neglect God's word -- "are like chaff that the wind drives away."
Now chaff -- unless any of us happen to live on a wheat farm -- is not something we spend time thinking about. But for the ancient Israelites, it was part of everyday life. When wheat was harvested, it was threshed -- the sheaves of wheat were dumped out on a stone slab called a threshing floor, and it was beaten with sticks. Then, someone threw it up in the air with a pitchfork. As it hung, suspended in the air, the wind would carry away a fine dust called chaff -- indigestible stuff that was no good to eat.
Here's what one preacher, who grew up in a farming community, has to say about chaff:
I do not think you city folks understand chaff. In Montana every fall we had harvesters who came around with a thrashing rig. The bundles of wheat would be thrown into this machine. The straw would be blown out onto the stack and the wheat would come dribbling out to be poured into trucks or wagons and taken away to the granary. But floating around in the air everywhere was chaff. It was the awfulest stuff you ever saw. It stuck to the skin wherever you sweat; on the back of your neck and down your shirt. It created frightful itching. It was universally regarded as the most worthless stuff there ever was.
That, says the psalmist, is God's evaluation of the life that never consistently allows itself to be focused on God's word. Such a life may be very impressive in the eyes of the world. It may display all the perks and luxuries that society uses to measure success. But inside -- deep within the soul -- that life is barren and empty, like so much chaff that the wind drives away.
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If you fear that your life has been headed in such a direction, I've got good news for you. It's not too late. It's never too late to turn -- or re-turn -- to the Lord. God's invitation, spoken here in Psalm 1, may be taken up at any time in life.
You can begin by dusting off that Bible -- turning to it more frequently than perhaps you've been accustomed. Come to one of the adult-education seminars we offer, or if you'd like to start a Bible-study of your own, then speak to one of the ministers -- we'd be glad to help you. If worship hasn't been a regular part of your life for some time, then one of the easiest things to do is to see that it becomes so; there's no place closer to the clear, running water of God's love than a worshiping congregation of God's people.
It really does make a difference where you and I sink our roots. If it is God who feeds and waters them, truly we will "yield our fruit in its season."
As you come to the Lord's Table in a short while, I invite you to come hungering and thirsting for the spiritual nourishment God has to offer. You don't need to be worthy to come to this Table; if you accept Christ's sacrifice for your sins, then he has already made you worthy. Just come. Let the streams of living water wash you clean, make you new, make you whole!
Related Illustrations Ours is an age that craves some sense of rootedness, some abiding sense of tradition. For example, antique dealers know there's a thriving black market in stolen family portraits. You may not think anyone could possibly want to hang a painting of somebody else's ancestor over their mantelpiece,? but think again! Apparently there's a market for that sort of thing. For some "rootless" individuals, if they can't have their own ancestors, they'll settle for someone else's. There's one antique dealer just south of Front Royal, Virginia, who makes no apologies about providing "roots" to those who have none. He's placed a billboard outside his thriving establishment that advertises: "Antique Tables Made Daily." (Well, at least he's honest about it!) ***** One who was spiritually "rooted" in just such a way was Horatio Spafford, a Christian lawyer from Chicago. In the year 1873, he placed his wife and four children on a luxury liner, the Ville du Havre, bound for France. Spafford's plan was to follow on another ship in a few weeks, after finishing up some essential business. Horatio Spafford never saw his children again. The liner on which they were riding collided in mid-ocean with another ship, and sunk in just 30 minutes. In the tumult and confusion of the wreck, Spafford's wife clung desperately to her four children ? but one by one they were swept away by the waves. She herself fell unconscious, and awoke later to find that she had been rescued by the other ship's crew, one of the few survivors of the tragedy. There was not a trace of their four children. Back home, Horatio Spafford, ?who had heard news of the disaster,? was anxiously awaiting word from his family. When the rescue ship reached the coast of Wales, his wife sent him a terse, two-word cablegram: "Saved alone," was all it said. With those agonizing words echoing in his mind, her husband plunged into a dark night of anguish such as he had never known. Yet somehow, in the midst of it all, Spafford found the strength to pray, and out of that prayer came an unearthly sense of peace, an awareness of God's presence in the midst of mind-numbing grief. Toward morning, he was able to confide in a friend: "I am glad to be able to trust my Lord when it costs me something." Sometime later, reflecting on the loss in his life, Horatio Spafford wrote a hymn. The hymn was set to a tune called "Ville du Havre," the name of the ship on which his children had died: When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows, like sea-billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul. ***** She say, Celie, tell the truth, have you ever found God in church? I never did. I just found a bunch of folks hoping for him to show. Any God I ever felt in church I brought in with me. And I think all the other folks did too. They come to church to share God, not find God. -- Alice Walker. Words spoken by the character, Shug, in The Color Purple, p. 165, ed. Women's Press (1983). ***** In his book Lifesigns, Henri Nouwen observes that North American volunteers he met, working with the poor in Peru, were often somber and joyless (this is in contrast to the Peruvians themselves): "Few felt at home in their own world. Often they suffered from strained relationships with their family, had difficulty in developing close relationships with their peers, and felt hostile toward people in authority. Often they did not feel at home in their own bodies either. In many ways they were estranged, strangers to their past, their present, and their future: no home to come from, no home to go to, no true movement, no true life, no true joy. Seeing and feeling this deep suffering in my ambitious, successful friends, I was increasingly overwhelmed by the immense spiritual crisis of the so-called first world"(p. 96). ***** "For too long Christians seeking comfort have been defining community as a noun. In fact, community is people building something together, working on a common project (cum-munio)." -- Matthew Fox, *Original Blessing* (Santa Fe: Bear & Co., 1983), pp. 25-26. ***** "We cannot live for ourselves. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, and along these fibers, our actions run as causes and return to us as results." -- Herman Melville ***** The New York Times, May 18, 2003, has an excellent article by John Tierney on the relative value of human life, called "Life: The Cost-Benefit Analysis." It may be found at http://www.nytimes.com/2003/05/18/weekinreview/18TIER.html. ***** (Here's a possible sermon opener for a message on spiritual rootedness, on being deeply planted by "rivers of waters.") He was retired military, safe and secure after 20-plus years in the service, living on a comfortable pension. He had achieved a standard of living higher than his parents' wildest dreams. By all accounts, he should have been supremely happy; but he was not. Something very important was missing from his life. Alex Haley longed to know where he came from. And so he set out to discover his "roots." Everyone he told about his quest said he was crazy. How could an African-American, a descendant of slaves, trace his family history back across the ocean? There were no written records, they objected; no one kept track of the names of slaves. But Alex Haley had listened well to the stories of his family, the lore that had been passed from generation to generation. He had heard tell of a man named Kunta Kinte, captured by slavers, torn away from his homeland in West Africa. Impelled by the power of that name, generations old, and by the conviction that there had been a living, breathing human being behind it, Haley managed to do what everyone thought impossible: he traced his roots back, generation by generation, all the way to Africa. The book he wrote, Roots, tells his family's story. Psalm 1 traces a different kind of roots, not the roots of family history, but rather, spiritual roots. The Psalmist knows whereof he speaks. He lives, after all, in the Middle East, that land of sandy deserts cut through by cool, running rivers. Whether Jordan or Nile, Tigris or Euphrates, those shimmering ribbons of water give life to all the country round about. Beside their banks rise towering trees: date palms, willows, fruit trees of every description. They give up their fruit for human consumption; they offer shade for human pleasure. It is because those trees are "planted by streams of water" that they are able not only to survive the scorching noonday heat, but also to flourish. It is because they tap into a source of life beyond themselves that they are able to live. A great many people today seem to be searching for a "quick fix" when it comes to finding their spiritual roots. We already have instant oatmeal, instant film developing, instant FAX transmissions; why not "instant" faith? Salvation while you wait! Some seem to think you can be a Christian without ever worshiping God, without ever knowing the life of a community of faith, such as the church. All you need (according to this way of thinking) is a vague sort of respect for the Almighty, maybe a family Bible on the coffee table, and lip-service, always plenty of lip-service, to the notion that "God helps them that help themselves." Come serious crisis or illness, though, and those fair-weather believers just may find themselves, shall we say, "high and dry." "Shrubs in the desert," Jeremiah calls them; parched and thirsty, they have nowhere to turn for relief. If only they had planted themselves "by streams of water," as Psalm 1 puts it! Truly, then, they would "yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves [would] not wither." The pre-eminent place to discover this sense of spiritual rootedness is in worship. We come to worship by way of the baptismal font: "streams of water" indeed. Worship may seem to be a strange new world, when first we're getting to know it; yet over the long term, it is very much like planting ourselves by streams of water. It's not that any one worship service makes the difference, for most of us ? that pushes us decisively over the edge, from unbelief into faith. No, it's more of a slow, gradual process, for worship is a habit, cultivated over many, many years. It's the very habitual nature of worship that gives our faith staying power, enables us, as Christians, to weather life's turmoil and tribulations. You and I aren't meant to come to church only when we're hurting, only when we need to hear that special word of healing and wholeness. No, you and I are meant to worship regularly ? to "pray without ceasing," as the scriptures encourage. We "are meant for God," as the book of Job puts it, "as the sparks fly upward." In a certain sense, worship is like a spiritual health club. Dashing down once or twice a year to the health spa, to pump iron and jog around a track, won't accomplish a blessed thing for our physical conditioning; it may even do harm, if we aren't careful. By the same token, sporadic attendance at worship may leave us feeling more like strangers than those who are in intimate relationship with Jesus Christ. If, as the Psalmist puts it, we are to be "planted by water, sending out [our] roots by the stream," you and I do well to take seriously the spiritual reality of baptism. The waters of the font are those by which we are planted. The very function of roots is to soak up and retain water, cool, life-giving, refreshing water. A glass of ice water on a hot and sultry day brings comfort. The roaring beauty of a waterfall is a picture of strength and power; the sheer, sensual pleasure of a hot shower first thing in the morning is a reminder of cleansing and new life. The pristine beauty of a fresh snowfall is an image of purity, a thick, soft blanket that protects life, even in the coldest of winters. Water is a thing of power, as it freezes and expands, as it thunders over the spillway of a hydroelectric dam. Water can wear down the strongest of rocks, and it can scoop out a canyon. Water has power to mold and to smooth,? as a potter knows, moistening a cracked lump of clay, working it on the wheel, transforming the ordinary into a thing of wonder. Through the capillaries of its root system, a tree takes water into its very self, transporting it all the way up the mighty trunk to the leaves. If its roots weren't sunk deep into the ground, a tree could never survive on the fickle sprinkling of rain-showers. It needs to tap into the great underground springs that flow beneath the desert sands. It needs to be "planted by water." Worship Resources By Chuck Cammarata CALL TO WORSHIP One approach to the call to worship is to use Psalm 133. The following is based on Eugene Petersen's translation, The Message. LEADER: How wonderful, how beautiful PEOPLE: WHEN BROTHERS AND SISTERS GET ALONG. LEADER: It's like costly anointing oil PEOPLE: FLOWING OVER HEAD AND BEARD. LEADER: It's like dew on the mountains, PEOPLE: FLOWING DOWN THE SLOPES OF ZION. LEADER: That is where God commands the blessing, PEOPLE: AND ORDAINS ETERNAL LIFE. LEADER: Amen. An alternative approach: LEADER: Brothers! PEOPLE: SISTERS! LEADER: In all our glorious differences; PEOPLE: ALL THE COLORS OF THE RAINBOW; LEADER: All the sizes on the shelf; PEOPLE: ALL THE TALENTS ONE CAN IMAGINE; LEADER: A plethora of personalities; PEOPLE: DIVERSE POJNTS OF VIEW; LEADER: And yet ... PEOPLE: AND YET ... LEADER: Made one in the love PEOPLE: AND POWER LEADER: Of God PEOPLE: THROUGH CHRIST. LEADER: Come, let us celebrate the diversity of creation, PEOPLE: AND ONENESS IN CHRIST. LEADER: Amen. PRAYER OF CONFESSION LEADER: Nitpicking, PEOPLE: CRITICISM, LEADER: Contentiousness, PEOPLE: GOSSIP, LEADER: Judgmentalism, PEOPLE: ARGUMENT, LEADER: Grudge holding, PEOPLE: DIVISION. LEADER: This is the face of Christ we present to the world. PEOPLE: LORD -- FORGIVE US! LEADER: Forgive us the selfishness that puts minor doctrinal positions above love. PEOPLE: FORGIVE US THE SIN OF SELF-RIGHTEOUSNESS. LEADER: Teach us to celebrate variety, PEOPLE: WHILE EMBRACING ONENESS. LEADER: For while gifts are many, PEOPLE: WE ARE ONE BODY. ASSURANCE OF PARDON Rather than an assurance of pardon you may want to sing a hymn that celebrates variety in unity -- something like, "They Will Know We Are Christians by Our Love." PASTORAL PRAYER God of us all -- in an era that celebrates individualism -- which tells us to look out for number one, and to put ourselves first -- we are confronted by a Christ who calls us to die to ourselves, to love our enemies, and even to be willing to give our lives for our friends. It is a call to community, to put others before ourselves, to share all that we have, to be part of something bigger than ourselves so that the world may see in us a love that overcomes our inevitable differences and weaves us together into an awesomely beautiful tapestry of love. Help us today to set aside differences of politics, and ideology, and temperament, and doctrine, and embrace one another -- not because our differences are meaningless -- but because Your love -- O Lord -- is greater than any of our differences. In the name of our one and only Lord -- Jesus Christ -- Amen. CREED This would be a good Sunday to use The Apostles' or Nicene Creed. They both confess a faith that nearly all Christians affirm. An introduction that points out to our people the nearly universal agreement on these fundamental creeds would remind them that Protestant and Catholic -- conservative and liberal -- we hold the fundamentals in common. A responsive Apostles' Creed follows. Introduction to the creed Seventeen centuries ago a statement of the Christian faith was produced that proclaimed the foundational beliefs of the early church. This statement, which we know as the Apostles' Creed, has been accepted and confessed by nearly all Christians for untold generations. It speaks of the things that we all -- Protestant and Catholic -- conservative and liberal -- we all proclaim to be true. Though our differences are real -- the truths we confess this morning are bigger than any difference. Come, let us proclaim our common faith. LEADER: We believe in God. PEOPLE: THE FATHER, LEADER: Almighty! PEOPLE: MAKER OF HEAVEN AND EARTH. LEADER: And in Jesus Christ His only son, PEOPLE: OUR LORD; LEADER: Who was conceived by the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, PEOPLE: WAS CRUCIFIED, DEAD, AND BURIED. LEADER: He descended into hell; but PEOPLE: THE THIRD DAY HE AROSE AGAIN FROM THE DEAD. LEADER: He ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand of God, PEOPLE: THE FATHER ALMIGHTY, LEADER: From thence he shall come to judge PEOPLE: THE LIVING AND THE DEAD. LEADER: We believe in the Holy Spirit, PEOPLE: THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH, LEADER: The communion of saints, PEOPLE: THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS LEADER: The resurrection of the body, PEOPLE: AND THE LIFE EVERLASTING! LEADER: Amen. PEOPLE: AMEN. HYMNS AND SONGS They Will Know We Are Christians by Our Love One Bread, One Body Blest Be the Tie that Binds Come, Christians, Join to Sing In Christ There Is No East or West Let Us Break Bread Together The Church's One Foundation PRAYER FOR ILLUMINATION Bread of Heaven -- as we feed on your Word this morning -- weave the magic of your love deeper into the fabric of our hearts and minds that we might be transformed from a collection of selfish individuals into a unit working together to serve the cause of Christ in the world. Amen. A Children's Sermon By Wesley Runk Acts 1:15-17, 21-26 Text: "Then they prayed and said, 'Lord, you know everyone's heart. Show us which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.'" (vv. 24-25) Object: 12 objects (blocks, coins, books, pencils) Good morning, boys and girls. Today we are going to learn about working together. Is there anyone here that likes to do things all by themselves? (let them answer) Would you like to go to school by yourself? (let them answer) Would you like to play by yourself? (let them answer) Would you like to work by yourself? (let them answer.) The answer is no! We like to do things with each other. It is not only fun, but it is also better for us when we are doing things together. Let me tell you about something that happened after Jesus died and see if you understand how the disciples felt. When