| Note: No sermon is quite the same when you read it. You miss the inflections, the expression that you gain in the hearing. The words below are only a close approximation of the sermon, taken from handwritten notes. Nevertheless, the words (as best as can be deciphered!) are shared with you here. The Webmeister |
Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost I don't remember when I first became conscious of myself as separate from everyone else. (my parents) I don't remember when I became aware of that existential reality that I was not automatically a part of everything around me, when I became aware of being alone within my head. When was it? How old was I? I wonder when the first human being became conscious of being alone? Scripture tells the story in the book of Genesis about the Garden of Eden, and the moment when Adam and Eve suddenly became aware after they ate from the tree of knowledge. They suddenly became aware of themselves as separate and vulnerable and cut off from God. And God comes in the cool of the day's end and calls them, but they hide in fear "no longer at ease" with their maker. I wonder when the first human being looked up at the stars or the moon and wondered what it all meant, rather than simply seeing the light and knowing it was time to hunt or to sleep? Humankind came to a point when we were conscious that we were separate from the world around us and our thoughts were our own. And each of our little lives reflects this journey of humanity. Each of us comes to this place of consciousness at some point in the growing up process. And I believe that without coming to this place of knowing we are separate — other — that we cannot understand our yearning for wholeness. Long ago I fell in love with a series of books by a woman named Ursula K. Le Guin. The first book begins with a fragment of a poem: Only in silence the word, Only in dark the light, Only in dying, life: Bright the hawk's flight On the empty sky. And I know truth in these words. The hawk's flight is indeed wondrous when the sky you searched so hard was empty only a moment before. How can you understand a desire and a need for wholeness until you truly understand being other, being separate, maybe even being broken? It is a paradox. A paradox is a statement that is seemingly absurd or contradictory, yet is, in fact, true. Life and the Gospel is full of paradox. Blessed are the poor in spirit The last will be first In giving you will receive In dying for my sake and the gospel you will live Whoever would be first among you must be your servant and somehow, deep, deep, down, somehow I know, if I ever knew anything that my only truth lies buried in these words. I know that somehow these are real words of life. It's like a great mystery that I'm always just on the edge of understanding, a great secret that I am on the verge of hearing. For about 2 weeks now, we have been talking of stewardship. You have been invited to a party. You have received a pledge card and a booklet full of thoughts and meditations. We have talked about the various meanings of giving to support a church. But today I want to talk about Stewardship from the perspective of paradox, of something we "do" — not because it makes sense, but because it is the true way to live, a way to be whole. Today's Old Testament lesson is that picture from the book of Isaiah of a servant of the living God, a servant who has borne our grief; surely he has borne our sorrows, one who was bruised for our iniquities, wounded for our transgressions. We, like sheep, have gone each our own way, but the servant God sent into life was cut off from the land of the living. He poured out his soul to death, and was numbered with the transgressors. Yet, he was the righteous one, the servant of God. Just who was this servant? In today's new testament reading from the Book of Hebrews we are given a metaphor for the living word of God. It is like a razor sharp, two edge blade that can pierce to the edge of physical and spiritual life, like the sharp knife of a master chef can cut apart a piece of meat. Before the word of God, no creature is hidden; we are laid bare; no secrets hidden. But the Book of Hebrews says we have a great high priest and this high priest is able to understand our weaknesses because in every respect he was tempted as we are yet he did not lose his relationship to God. So we can draw near to God with confidence so that we may receive mercy, so that we may find grace to help in time of need. Just who is this high priest? In today's gospel, James and John claim to be able to drink the cup Jesus must drink. They do this with dreams of glory dancing in their heads and Jesus promises them they will drink his cup and share his baptism; and the cup and the baptism are that the Son of Man whom we call Jesus came not be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many. Just who is this Jesus? Are you willing to drink the cup of Jesus and be baptized with his baptism? Are you willing to be a servant of his children and give your life as a ransom for many? Because, make no mistake, this is what is being asked. Several years ago my friend and fellow priest Paul Fromberg spoke here at Epiphany Church to a group of our Lay Readers. He told us that in the ancient world a slave or servant made it possible for someone else to be set free from work. And Jesus used this bitter and all too well known example to explain his own purpose. The freedom given by his servanthood and willing sacrifice was our freedom from sin and death. And Jesus did not simply do this alone but he commanded us to help him or maybe I should say he asked us out of love to help him. Here is where I come back to wholeness and paradox. The paradox is that when you "do" this servanthood, when you "do" this giving away, when you "do" this sacrifice, you are like your Lord Jesus setting someone else free, BUT!!! you are also setting yourself free. Jesus above all other beings understands this mystery, this secret, that being a servant of God is the only path to true freedom, true wholeness, true love. Lisa Shannon found a powerful quote for this year's stewardship booklet from Carl Jung. He said: "Where love rules, there is no will to power, and where power predominates, love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other." Jesus in today's gospel says it this way: "You know that those who are supposed to rule over the Gentiles Lord it over them, and their great men, exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you: whoever would be great among you must be your servant and whoever would be first must be slave of all." How can a servant rule? How can a slave be free? It's a Paradox, something that doesn't make sense to us and yet we know is true. Stewardship is what you are willing to give away of your skill, your life, your stuff, what you are willing to give away for God's work, servanthood. And the Paradox is that when you do this "giving away" in order to set someone else free, you are set free, your own soul, your own peace, your own joy, your own wholeness. It changes your life. It's like the old Shaker Hymn: "Tis a gift. Tis a gift to be simple Tis a gift to be free Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be . . . I don't remember when I first became conscious of myself as separate from everyone else. But I do know where I have found true wholeness again, true joy, true love, true peace. It has been when I have given my life as a sacrifice to God. It has been as his servant. Stewardship is the "doing" of that servanthood. Amen The Reverend James T. Tucker October 22, 2006 *Past sermons may be found here. |
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