Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16; Luke 12:32-40
I probably read between 20 and 30 sermons, journal articles and study pieces on Sunday's texts before I sit down to write a sermon. A lot of them leave me cold. Of course I'm always looking for the one that I can say "Wow, I've never thought of that that way before--that's just what we need to hear." That doesn't happen often. In all of these sermons I'm not too critical. Usually I say "eh that's not the way I see it" or "I don't think that person expressed that idea very well" or "That's just not something we need to hear right now." I hope that you as sermon listeners are as charitable.
But this week, this week I read a sermon that just set my teeth on edge--I was downright angry at how much I think it missed the point of our lesson this morning. It began, "Faith is like being on the old television show, " Let's make a deal. " If you remember that program, the host, Monty Hall would go up to people in the audience and hand them some money, maybe a hundred dollars. Then he would ask the contestants whether they wanted to keep that money or whether they wanted to trade it for whatever was behind door number one. Door number one might conceal a brand new car or it might be a dented can of tomato soup." The sermon went on to develop the idea that much of the time we play it safe. Now that idea might not be bad but the example is horrible. It scares me that people might actually believe that faith is a lot like "let's make a deal.' God comes to us with the gifts of our talents, time and treasure and we decide if we want to trade it for door number one or door number two. Pick right and your life is meaningful and blessed. Pick wrong and you're just another chump.
This whimsical treatment of what faith is all about makes me crazy. Faith is going for broke because what else do I have to loose. Faith is betting of belief in God because if there is a God I win and if there isn't what have I lost?
Our lessons for today have nothing to do with that kind of faith. Yes the writer of Hebrew's talks about the things that are "hoped for" and the "things "not seen" but she also uses the words "assurance" and "conviction". What's behind the door is not a shot in the dark, it is sure and certain and it is good and perfect and wonderful because it is from a gracious and loving God.
The gospel writer Luke doesn't suggest selling your possessions and giving alms because you can then trade up to a better reward. No, he says you can do that because those things don't matter any more. "There is an unfailing treasure in heaven, that is indestructible... indestructible. "
We don't have faith in some kind of dumb luck. We don't have faith in some kind of cosmic gamble. We have faith in, we trust a God, "whose good pleasure it is to give us the kingdom." We have faith and trust in a generous, loving, benevolent, caring and involved deity. We do not just have faith; we have faith IN God. We trust God.
How do we talk about that faith? Just as the author of Hebrews does by referring to those who have that kind of faith. Abraham obeyed and set out not knowing where he was going but that he had been promised a land and descendants.
Shuffling through some old files the other day I was reminded of a couple from Bethlehem Lutheran Church, the Lindquists. A quiet calm couple they had raised four children of their own and then three or four foster children who came to them as early teens. When I knew them they were older, still active in the church, a constant, helpful presence--faithful people. Not Pollyanna's by any stretch --when you talked to them they bore testimony to the hard knocks of life, the realities of a journey that was not always smooth sailing. But what was clear was that it was their faith in God that sustained them. Fritchoff's funeral, while sad, was a celebration because everyone there knew he was headed to a better country.
Faith in God does not promise us instant gratification. We are not promised that being faithful will mean that we will be happy, healthy and wealthy tomorrow or that our sadness, disease and poverty will not continue to distress us. One of the most profound theologians of our day Karl Rahner has written, "Christianity sees reality as it is. Christianity does not oblige (the Christian) to see the reality of the historical experience of life in an optimistic light."
Faith does not get discouraged by the immediate moment or the temporary condition. James Fowler speaks of faith as "intuiting life as a whole" or as the composing of an ultimate environment." Once again the author of Hebrews would direct us to those who possess faith. "All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them." They intuited, they imagined, they believed in a glorious future even though they knew they might not possess it. What kept them going was the promise, the hope, the expectation of the possibility.
I love this phrase in our lesson. "All of these died in faith without hving received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them." We have a hard time these days seeing the long distance. We are not for the most part a patient people. During the last century, the United States planned, financed and built the Panama Canal. The Panama Canal took over ten years to vomplete. That meant there were legislators in the U.S. House of Representatives who voted for the expenditure of funds for the canal, but were not in office when the canal was completed. It took four or five congressional terms to complete the canal. Can one imagine politicians today taking such a long view, risking their careers on a project on which they would never reap the benefits?
It takes a great deal of effort to take the long view to work on projects that will not have their fulfillment in the near future. A teacher of teachers once said "A good teacher has got to be in love with the process of planting the seed, but cannot be around for the harvest." I like that. There are lots of other occupations and tasks like that. We expend our lives; work faithfully full well knowing we will never fully see the results of our efforts.
My great grandfather, a farmer South of Chicago joined with others and worked hard to start a church to serve the German population of perhaps a 15 square mile area. They built a church building they moved a schoolhouse from three miles away to become a parsonage. They called a pastor. They began Sunday School. The church grew but never to be very large. In time the city of Chicago enveloped it and larger wealthier congregations dwarfed it. Then the neighborhood went through racial change but the Sunday School still continued, Sunday services were still held, young people were confirmed. 98 years after its beginnings Pastor Doug was called as Pastor and we moved into that 100 year old parsonage. And another group of people worked hard to keep the church alive and well. Summer programs were established, women's groups continued to meet and God's work was done. Twenty five years later the church my great grandfather worked to begin has merged into another church but services are still held, children still go to Sunday school and young people are still confirmed. By faith we go out, not seeing the end point, the fruition, the conclusion to our efforts but trusting that God's promises remain sure and certain.
Let us pray: Lord God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we can not see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen