![]() |
||||||||||||||||||
|
The Rev. Neale L. Miller Sermon for July 15, 2007 Texts: Amos 7:7-17/Luke 10:25-37 Sermon Title: “God Wants Out’
“For now [the Apostle Paul writes in his first letter to the church at Corinth] we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I am fully known.” “For now we see in a mirror, dimly…” There is no declaration in all of Scripture guaranteed to receive wider acceptance, even among those who reject the Christian faith. Such is not the case with the second half of the statement. That second half of the statement is Paul’s testimony of faith, a testimony our faith allows us to share: “then [we] will know fully, even as [we are] known.” We see dimly, but our faith, informed by Holy Scripture, gives us warrant to anticipate a day when that which is obscured from our sight in the dim light of the present day, is revealed in all its glory. Last Sunday our Sunday school class engaged in a spirited discussion of heaven and the after life. If I had to guess, it is probably is a topic in which each one of you has engaged at one time or another. The mirror being dim, it is a topic upon which no one can claim expertise. The fact that heaven and the after life are given comparatively limited treatment in Scripture has allowed very ample room for human speculation on the subject to fill the void. We speculate on the location of heaven. A strong consensus exists that heaven is up. The atmosphere existing above us was by the ancients identified as the “heaven,” or “the heavens.” In the book of Acts we are told that the disciples of the resurrected Jesus looked on as “he was lifted up and a cloud took him out of their sight.” The psalms report that “God is enthroned in the heavens.” In the Lord’s Prayer, we pray to “Our Father, who art in heaven.” Heaven is up, that is a notion we accepted with our mother’s milk. There are still other features of heaven and eternal life whose origins are more difficult to trace. Take, for instance, the idea that St. Peter is the admitting officer and gatekeeper of heaven. We have traded jokes and vignette about encounters with St. Peter at the pearly gates. Three men, two physicians and an HMO case manager appeared before St. Peter. The first physician submitted his application to enter by saying, “I was a pediatric spinal specialist. I dedicated my career to helping children achieve a better quality of life.” St. Peter invited him in. The second physician stated, “I was a psychiatrist in life, dedicating my career to helping people cope with mental illness.” St. Peter invited him in. The HMO case manager introduced himself by saying, “I managed the health care needs of hundreds of subscribers to our plan.” Peter invited him, “Come in, you are entitled to a three day stay, and then you must go to hell.” Heaven, of course, has “pearly gates,’’ and streets paved with gold, and mansions on every corner. Heaven is a place where a cloud would be a curiosity, a place with temperatures never exceeding 75 degrees. Heaven is the “National Geographic” perfect community only a hundred times better. In heaven beautiful gardens occupy the real estate we dedicate to jails, fire halls, hospitals, banks, and malls In heaven status and rank do not apply. The vocations to which we were committed in life, physician, banker, lawyer, preacher, legislator, etc., are a closed book, for our days are spent enjoying the pleasures our righteousness earned us. The person who loved nothing so much as to golf, climb mountains, paint, compose music, climb mountains, is free to enjoy those pleasures with no restriction. Heaven is that “better place,” to which we commend our deceased loved ones. Whether the person expired after a long life well lived, or had their life cut tragically short, we are very likely to comfort each other by saying, “he (she) has gone to a better place.” In my own experience at funerals and memorial services I am struck by how many persons who haven’t darkened the door of the church in years, or have never even been part of a faith community, yet embrace the notion that there is some “better place” available in the afterlife. Whether a member of the world’s many faith traditions or not, it is safe to say that heaven and the afterlife provide a source of consolation and comfort to those of us who attempt, and often fail, to make sense of this confounding world in which we live. Whether a person of faith or not, we would like to think that there is something out there for us when we leave here. When we contemplate heaven and the afterlife we often do so anticipating reunion with the loved ones who preceded us in death. We contemplate family circles and friendships reconstituted, missed opportunities to love and be loved restored. We contemplate capacities undermined by disease and illness restored. In the afterlife no one is consigned to the infirmary, the hospital, the wheelchair or the walker. For now we see dimly. We are given liberty to speculate on heaven and the afterlife in whatever manner we wish, much of that speculation, frankly, emerging from sources other than the Bible. So what are those sources? Those sources are mortals like you and me who attempt to imagine what paradise would be like. Fact of the matter is no one, save God’s son, Jesus, ever entered heaven and experienced the afterlife, returning to earth after the experience. While it is true, as the Gospel of John reports, that Jesus’ followers were told that the Lord would prepare a place for them in this Father’s house, he did not describe the accommodations at all. Likewise, when the resurrected Jesus returned to earth and met with his disciples and other followers he made no effort to describe the pleasures of heaven, but instead commissioned them to continue his work here on earth. Our future with God, heaven and eternal life, has prompted a great deal of speculation about what the experience might entail, again, much of it having no foundation in scripture. Yet eternal life does have biblical warrant, and it is a hope to which you and I cleave. Though our projections about what life with God could very easily be fanciful, our faith is built on the conviction that the end of our days on earth is but the inauguration of another more fulfilling life than the one we are currently living, a life devoid of pain, suffering, or loss. Inevitably the question posed by our lawyer friend in Luke’s Gospel arises, “‘Teacher,’” “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” We do not know what images of the eternal life the lawyer might have entertained, but it is very likely that the images that inhabitant of the first century entertained about heaven and eternal life were much the same as those we entertain today. In his meeting with Jesus, the lawyer may have sought verification that the picture he maintained of eternal life was accurate. He did not. His agenda was succinctly stated: “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus answered his question with a separate question, “What is written in the law?” Ready with an answer, the lawyer responded, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” The lawyer hit the jackpot. He offered the best possible answer there could be given. Yet the lawyer ventured further. Our lesson tells us that “wanting to justify himself,” [that’s important, “wanting to justify himself”] the lawyer asked the follow up question, “And who is my neighbor?” The law instructed him to love his neighbor, but in good conscience he wasn’t prepared to go along with that instruction. Was his vision of eternal life compromised by the possibility that upon receiving his reward he might be forced to associate with the wrong types? We don’t know that to be the case, however, the lawyer’s view of eternal life was undoubtedly comprised when the anonymous neighbor was factored in. Did eternal life come with the proviso that you love EVERYBODY? How far much I stretch to be in favor with God? We know that the rewards God offers come with certain expectations attached. Even as we muse upon the possible rewards the afterlife offers, we must account for those expectations. “Who is my neighbor?” Seeking to justify himself, the lawyer wanted to make sure that he was comfortably satisfying the requirements of the law, but beyond the stated requirements of the law concerning the neighbor he was unprepared to go. “Who is my neighbor?” “Point him out and I will see if my love stretches that far. There are certain conditions that must be met before I go further.” The issue of righteousness under the law is a topic our Sunday school class has been dealing with the last several weeks in our discussion of the Apostle Paul’s letter to the church at Rome. In the letter Paul takes aim at those Jews who believe that by fulfilling the law they can be justified in the eyes of God. God, to their way of thinking was a divine pay master who levied rewards on the basis of points earned under the law. We easily buy into that notion ourselves, accepting on faith that God cannot refuse us if we mind our p’s and q’s as good people. Underlying the lawyer’s question in our lesson was a desire to know how many points were needed in loving the neighbor to earn standing before God. How much? How far? How long? We seek to quantify. How much do I need to do? How far do I need to go? How long must I continue? “Tell me specifically what I must do, and I will do it? Who is my neighbor? Point her out and I’ll take it from there.” We define by subtraction. “I’ve met this obligation. I’ve met that obligation. Look at me. I’ve got everything under control.” In saying that we have our obligations under control, that we have passed all the tests, we assume power for ourselves we believe God himself cannot undermine. “I am righteous. My good deeds have earned my place in heaven.” We define by subtraction. “I’ve met every obligation. Review the list, O Lord, and you will see.” “Who is my neighbor? How far do my obligations extend?” “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho…. Sound familiar? Accosted by robbers he was left half dead. A priest and a Levite passed by the man, two men one might have expected to help the imperiled victim. Didn’t happen. Who shows up to help the man? The Samaritan, the very person an upstanding Jew was taught to hate. God has created space on earth, and presumably in heaven, for people you and I do not make time for. By magnifying our achievements, and excusing our personal failings, we carry on as if God couldn’t possibly reject us. Not so others we deem less worthy. The great temptation to which people like us succumb is not speculating on what heaven and the afterlife might be; we are given minds and imaginations with which to speculate. The great temptation is to fence God in, to presume that the unconditional love God shows me is not also available to my neighbor, even the neighbor who makes me turn away in disgust. God wants out of that enclosure in which we have fenced him. “What must we do to inherit eternal life?” Can we leave it to God to decide how far his grace extends? God did not consult us when he created us. He does not consult us on how his grace will be dispensed. God is bigger, his grace more far-reaching, than the mortal mind can fathom. God preserves the freedom to show up in the most unexpected places, and in the most unexpected people. It is not for us to “do” our way into eternal life but to open our minds and hearts to circumstances, and the people, through whom God is reaching out to us. Ponder heaven and the afterlife, and enjoy that freedom, but God is not waiting in heaven, wherever that is, for us to come him, he his in our midst challenging us to create heaven right here, right now. AMEN. PRAYER We gather here today, O Lord, as people of faith seeking understanding, acknowledging that there is so much to understand about ourselves as seekers, and about you whom we seek. Given intellect and spirit to probe the many questions that life daily presents, we are privileged to know much, yet much remains to be known and experienced in our quest to live fully and free. Empower us, O God, to live into the covenant you have established with us in Christ Jesus. Privileged to enjoy rights under that covenant, we are prone to spurn the obligations that are ours as your covenant partners. Forgive us when the distractions of life so overcome us that we forget we are your children, accountable to your law and the testimony of your prophets. Living God, we have been privileged to be embraced as neighbors by friends throughout the country, people who have been generous in their support of our ministry. We have learned much from those who, made aware of our need, stopped at our side to minister to us. Relationships initiated with congregations and individuals within the church continue to mature and grow, as we have been privileged not only to receive from others, but to give in return. The lawyer asked, “And who is my neighbor?” The answer, O God, is no secret that we know. The neighbor is one with whom we share our essential humanity. He may not look like us, think like us, or share our life experience, but created in your image, O God, as we are, he is a person of dignity and ultimate value in your sight. Forgive us when we define neighbor too narrowly, O God, when we set criteria to be our neighbor that violate your holy will. Awaken your people, O God, to prospects for peace. May intellects and imaginations placed in service to the design and manufacture of weapons and weapons systems; find new outlets for creativity in efforts to foster mutual respect and reconciliation among the world’s warring peoples. You come to us, Lord Jesus, as the Prince of Peace, but the world stubbornly insists on wasting its resources on armament. O Christ, forgive our folly. Where our vision for what the world can be, O God, is compromised by the all too immediate and compelling realities of death and destruction we daily face, there be to reveal new possibilities. Support those who in this hour face life and death challenges, who are forced to kill or be killed. Abide with those who, traumatized by war, daily struggle with flash backs and nightmares. Grant strength and courage to the wounded whose days are spent learning to walk again, dress themselves without aid of an arm, or are learning to live in a world shrouded in perpetual darkness. We pray this day for your son, our brother, David Vitter, whose transgressions have been so publicly aired. Abide with his wife, children, and other family members, as the fall out from recent revelations descend on them. Lord, we are often quick to gossip, snicker and condemn, when you ask us to brace the fallen brother or sister in their time of need. No, we do not ask ourselves, O Christ, how you would respond to our distressed brother? We know how you would respond, we know, and we can even hear your charge to us, “go and do likewise.” Lord, you are ever more ready to hear then we are to pray, yet it is in and through our praying that our relationship with you is built and maintained. Even as your disciples asked you to teach them to pray, so we ask you to teach us to pray. Be our counsel and guide, O God, in a domain that is unfamiliar to so many of us. Renew our confidence in prayer, a confidence that we assert itself with more frequent and more authentic prayer. Embrace all who have gathered here for worship, support the wavering, bring light to the lost, and consolation to those who grieve. In all that we do as a congregation in worship, mission and fellowship may it be your will we serve. In the name of Christ we are bold to pray… |
|||||||||||||||||
Home | About Lakeview Presbyterian Church | Worship and Music | Pastor's Message | Associate Pastor's Message ©2004 - Lakeview Presbyterian Church - All Rights Reserved. |
||||||||||||||||||