Old Mystic, March 1, 2009
Genesis 9:8-17
Summary
The story of the ending of the flood is an ancient powerful reminder of God’s saving initiative and God’s establishment of a covenant with humanity, a forerunner of the covenant in Christ, of which we are lovingly invited to participate. It is God’s initiative; it is possible because of God’s grace and a challenge for us to enter into it.
Sermon
Many may be quite familiar with the music of Credence Clearwater Revival, a popular rock band of the late 60’s and early 70’s. What it may be perhaps surprising to some is the fact that they were so popular in countries like Argentina where indeed they were very popular then. Their songs would be on the radio, the lyrics not necessarily understood by most of the listeners, but their rhythm was catchy, and there was something appealing about the voice of their leader and main composer John Fogerty. So I can remember many of their songs and, among them, a particular one, under the title of “Who’ll Stop the Rain?” Let share some of Fogerty’s existential struggles:
"Long as I remember the rain been comin' down. Clouds of myst'ry pouring confusion on the ground. Good men through the ages, try'n' to find the sun, and I wonder, still I wonder, who'll stop the rain..." Music and lyrics by John Fogerty
I’m not sure how good my exegesis of this musician’s plight is but it seems to me that his feeling, expressed in the music and lyrics of this song, is that humanity cannot stop a course of self-destruction and its fate expressed through the metaphor of unstoppable rain. There is confusion, promises (Five year plans and new deals), people gathered together (a positive sign), yet the rain keeps falling down. Therefore the question, who’ll stop the rain?
When we look at the story of the ending of the flood, the answer to the question seems obvious. God can stop the rain. Though it must have been tough and even hard to believe for Noah and his family that that rain would ever stop when they were watching all life around them being destroyed by God’s wrath. But the rain stopped and the image of a rainbow, as a sign of a promise is powerful. And the promise, though simple, appropriate for onlookers of the time, is an anticipation of God’s initiative to save humankind; to save us; to save His creation. “I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth." It should perhaps be added to this promise that there is more to come; that this rudiment of a covenant, a pledge not to destroy all creation through a flood, is just a glimpse of God’s love for creation and for humanity. It is perhaps a good start for this season of Lent to go back to that covenant so we can reflect on the new covenant” in Jesus Christ, established through the cross, where God takes away our guilt and liberates us from all that oppresses us. If we feel it has been raining too long for our lives, we can affirm that sometime, may be soon, or later on; may be in this life or in our life to come, God will stop the rain. God has made a covenant with us.
1. IT IS AN EXPRESSION OF GOD’S LOVE
It is implicit throughout the story of the flood and the gathering of the species into the ark that God preserved Noah and his family because of His profound love for humanity. In fact the covenant of the rainbow is preceded by the covenant of the ark whereby God made a commitment to protect and save Noah of the raging waters. God is love; God has always been love and any divine saving activity comes out of that unending love. God love us and has made a pledge to save us so “the rain will stop.” And that love is extended to all creation, not just human beings. Ever since the beginning, God’s remark about His creation has been that “it is good.” God’s creation is good, so it is not a human fad or whim, or the impulse of environmentalists, the claim that the creation should be cared for; it is a divine decree. God has made us human beings stewards of the beautiful world He created because God loves His creation.
Looking at the story again, it cannot escape us also the fact that through the powerful destruction of a fallen world God is executing His inescapable justice. There is such a thing as sin, there is a harsh reality of evil, and the consequence of guilt appears. Justice needs to be made; the guilty must condemned. Now, this is very hard to grasp. Why a loving God would destroy all human life sparing only 8 people? It is impossible to fathom God’s designs. Perhaps our problem is that we want to see God like a coin with its two sides: love and justice. But God’s love cannot be separated from His justice or vice versa. God’s love is always just; and God’s justice is exercised through love. For that reason in his ultimate covenant offered to us God decided to surrender in love and took upon himself our guilt making justice through love. God loves us enough to make the rain stop. If our hearts are warmed by God’s presence, if they are touched by the Holy Spirit, if we open our minds, and our senses, and our emotions to the Living God, He’ll stop the rain.
2. IT IS A SAVING COVENANT
Any covenant offered by God is a covenant of grace which means that God, in His love and mercy, delivers a favor toward us, something that we do not deserve. It is an opportunity to live; an opportunity to have a purpose greater than us; an opportunity to be free, understanding freedom as the possibility to become creative by surrendering to God’s power. Noah and his family were saved from the destruction of the flood and were granted the opportunity to re-create the world; it was a fresh start. They were saved to live and God was anticipating to them through the rudimentary covenant of the rainbow that God saves us for life and life abundant.
Unfortunately, were so often caught up in the rain and it keeps on falling down. All the circumstances around us make us doubt about any type of salvation or may be they take us in a flight out of this world being happy just with the idea of life beyond this life—at type of contentment that often leads to inaction, to abandoning the creative freedom that we are saved for. I must confess myself that I have been in the middle of the rain wondering if it would ever stop. Yet, we need to look at the rainbow… and the cross! God has made a covenant with us—in fact He has established that covenant, not us—whereby we are offered life; beautiful, abundant, creative, precious life, here and now. And I say this with fear and trembling, He’ll stop the rain.
3. IT CALLS FOR PARTICIPATION
There is no doubt that God takes the initiative; God is sovereign. We can only interpret His designs; our tools of comprehension are limited. We can only have glimpses of God’s glory and receive his grace, love, and mercy. However, in no way are we passive recipients of that grace. In fact any offer from God and by God to us calls for participation. His covenant, his salvation, or liberation, or transformation, or any opportunity given to us is there for our taking. We take the steps to participate in God’s project. I will not deny the compelling power of God’s love and the work of the Holy Spirit in convincing us but the ultimate decision of participating is ours. Noah understood God’s revelation; he was told that he needed to surrender to the crazy idea of building an ark when he was so far from any body of water where such a vessel could navigate. He was mocked by his contemporaries as delusional old man because there were other options. Noah could have walked away from God’s crazy proposal yet he decided to participate.
Sometimes it is difficult to participate in God’s project because it is so against the grain and perhaps because we are so much in the middle of the rain… and it keeps on falling down. I remember when I was young, growing up in the humid weather of Buenos Aires, storms would come at least one a year and rain would fall constantly anywhere from 5 to 9 days. We called those storms “Southeasters.” Being in the middle of a Southeaster was depressing. And when we are depressed we don’t feel we have the energy to do anything. If there is any strength we receive from God and any conviction from the Holy Sprit, we do need them to commit ourselves to participate in God’s project, even in the middle of the rain.
I don’t think I can emphasize enough how much God loves us. The image of a rainbow, whether real or created, is a reminder. So is the cross, such a horrendous instrument of torture and death. Jesus went to the cross to enact our salvation and redemption because of that love. This season of Lent, therefore, is once again a time to reflect upon, welcome, and celebrate God’s covenant of love in Jesus Christ. It is always an invitation to participate in God’s Kingdom, to come into the presence of the Living God; to join God in what God is doing in the world, even if it keeps on raining.
The Mountain and the Valley
Old Mystic, February 22, 2009
Mark 9:2-9
Summary
Our Christian life, a life of faith, is marked both by the peaks of our experiencing God as the disciples in the mount of the Transfiguration, and the journey of our daily lives where we walk with Jesus Christ as we deal with the struggles of our existence.
Sermon
I love mountains and high places, perhaps because I was born in the plains of the province of Buenos Aires, known as the pampas, the fertile and green grasslands where crops are grown, and that extend beyond that province to cover a large area of Argentina. Since I was raised in the suburbs, our occasional trips out of the “urban cone,” as the huge urban area of Buenos Aires and its suburbs is known, were trips to flatlands, plains, and muddy rivers. Boring! Very boring! Please don’t misunderstand me; the pampas are green, full of cattle, they have large estancias or haciendas (farms), where you can enjoy some of the best beef in the world in the famous asados. In fact, they represent an enormous attraction to people from all over the world; but not that much for me.
I can honestly affirm that since I was very young, when I first saw the mountains of the Sierra in the province of Cordoba, I fell in love with elevations, hills, and high places. I can recall some of the most precious memories of my life on top a mountain. I remember when we used to go on vacation to a small town, Los Cocos, in Cordoba. One of my favorite activities was to climb to the “Flagpole” (El Mastil), actually a monument on top of a high peak of about 5,000 feet. It was good because I loved to get to the top and watch the breathtaking scenic view and I enjoyed doing it with one of my best friends—my father. It was an experience of contemplation, of beauty, of companionship, of friendship, and of awe. It was the beginning of my comprehension of the greatness of God, of the beauty of creation, and of a sense of what it means to experience God.
I can relate to the incident at the mount of the Transfiguration and perhaps most of you can, yet not necessarily in the same way—some may recall similar feelings standing by a creek and watching the waters move; or gazing at the colorful forests of an autumn landscape in New England. What the disciples saw in that mountain, some say it was Mount Hermon, others say it was Mount Tabor, was very special. Jesus took them there and while he was praying he was transfigured. He went through a metamorphosis; according to Mark, his garments became so shining white that they thought they were out of this world. Matthew, in a parallel passage, also saw his face shine “like a sun.” It was a sort of vision, certainly not of this world. Peter, James, and John, the circle of the “privileged” disciples who were there, also witnessed a conversation between the transfigured, celestial, shining Christ, and two of their heroes, heroes of the Israelite faith: Moses and Elijah. These two, the vision at the top of the mountain, the shining clothes, the cloud that engulfed them, and the voice from heaven, all signal the revealing message of God: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him.”
It was an incredible experience beyond whether it was just something taking place in their imagination or an actual phenomenon of physical transformation. Either way, it was powerful; it profoundly impacted these men. John and James, at least according to the biblical story, did not open their mouths. They were too terrified to talk, or perhaps full of awe, or dread. Peter, on the other hand, always prompt to jump and to react according to his impulsive nature, managed to mumble a proposal: “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." Mark’s take of Peter’s words was simply that he was talking nonsense. He was also terrified. At the same time, Peter’s words reflect the value of the experience: it is good to be here. Unfortunately, the event did not last long. After the cloud overshadowed them, Moses and Elijah were gone, and Jesus was the same one they knew in everyday life; Jesus the human, the one with whom they walked daily.
But they learned something important through this event. There are moments in life when we witness God’s movement, when we encounter God in a special moment, when we have a glimpse of God’s glory. We live in a tension between those glorious moments when we feel that very presence of God and the more frequent times when we are called to act, to get involved, to serve, to practice what comes by the inspiration of a God who, I have no doubt, is always inviting us to experience Him. Today’s passage is highly instructive on two aspects of our Christian life without falling into the pits of a confusing dichotomy between the spiritual or the “Holy” and the practical or the human. We are continually immersed both in our religious spiritual experience and in our daily practice of our faith. Looking at the passage we can venture to say that we are summoned by God to two things.
1. WE ARE CALLED TO EXPERIENCE GOD
Born and raised Baptist, I was exposed to the understanding that religion is something we must experience. Though it would be a little bold to assert that all Baptists understand their religious experience as a sort of existential occurrence, or a conversion, or a vision, or an epiphany, many would agree that faith brings us to experience God in a concrete way. No experience, of course, can be put into a mold. It varies from person to person. Yet, the claim is that somehow, in our own way, we can all feel that sense of awe, of wonder, that sensation of trepidation because we know by faith that we are standing in the presence of the Living God.
I have the utmost respect for those who have a different view of religion where the faith can be learned; where by a process of education, or by participation of rituals and sacraments, one belongs to the Christian Community and subscribes to the tenets of the church. Doctrine can be enlightening and the help of mediators can be useful to somehow bring us into the stream. Yet, I prefer to believe that beyond the rational, in the realm of the non-rational, I can have an encounter with the Living God. Many call it an experience. A special moment or moments when, like Jesus’ disciples, we feel that sense of awe, or dread, or fear because we are physically aware of God’s presence near us.
Southern Baptist Scholar William E. Hull, writing on a booklet titled The Meaning of the Baptist Experience, characterizes our Baptist faith as one that dwells on experiencing God. Hull says that, “an experience begins to take shape when an individual becomes so engaged in some aspect of life that the attention is focused, the mind is stimulated, and the emotions are stirred.” Since we all have different ways of apprehending the meaning of our experience, it becomes very unique to us; very personal.
Our passage today is an enticement to go up to the top of the mountain, or walk by the riverside, or lay on a grassy, green field; perhaps stay in the peace and privacy of our room. Wherever it is, let us seek the encounter; let us look for the experience; let us be nurtured by the very presence of God so we are equipped for the journey. We can do it as individuals in our personal search, but we can also do it as a family of faith. We can do it in prayer together; we can do it in worship; we can do it in a retreat; we can do it through contemplation, or solitude, or meditation, or simply by praying for one another. We can do it! We can experience the Living God day in and day out so our lives are continually transformed.
2. WE ARE CALLED TO WALK WITH JESUS
Walking with Jesus is walking our own walk; it is dealing with the challenges of our daily life, coping with our own struggles, and going through our pains and sorrows. But most importantly, this walk with Jesus implies living our lives guided by his example, inspired by his teachings, and motivated by his sacrifice. This is utterly difficult, especially if we respond to Jesus’ challenge of picking up the cross and following him. Yes, sometimes it seems painful to come down to the valley after the experience of the mountain. For that reason Peter said, “It is good to be here.”
But while at the mountain, when the apostles were watching the glory of God with their own eyes as it manifested itself in the transfiguration of Jesus, God’s cloud engulfed them and they heard God’s voice loud and clear, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” The God we can experience, who can impact our lives for ever, calls us to listen to Jesus as we walk with him our in our daily lives. We can listen to Jesus—not perhaps in an audible way—when we read the Sermon on the Mount; when he calls us to love God and neighbor, or to turn the other cheek, or to mend the wounds of someone injured like the Good Samaritan did. We can listen to Jesus when he said,
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
Because he has anointed me
To bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
And recovery of sight to the blind,
To let the oppressed go free,
To proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."
But listening to Jesus is not just an intellectual exercise; it is a call to walk with him and engage the practice of our faith. It is serving, proclaiming, teaching, and fleshing out the life of Christ in us. Such a life, again, is a difficult one but remember, we may be in the valley but we have been to the mountain top and God is always with us. Canadian Baptist Henry Blackaby in his famous curriculum “Experiencing God” claims that our best way to experience God is by joining God in what God is doing in the world. That is what the disciples learned as they walked with Jesus; they joined Jesus in his mission.
Life has its ups and downs, yet we can certainly claim that God is with us all the time. In fact, when I speak of experiencing God, I hope to experience him all the time, not just once in a while. Because it is this experience, this encounter, this contemplation, this wonderful opportunity to meet God, who is at the center of our lives, that empowers, and nurtures our lives for our mission and our daily walk. Let us seek God with all our soul, with all our strength, and with all our heart.
Mark 9:2-9
Summary
Our Christian life, a life of faith, is marked both by the peaks of our experiencing God as the disciples in the mount of the Transfiguration, and the journey of our daily lives where we walk with Jesus Christ as we deal with the struggles of our existence.
Sermon
I love mountains and high places, perhaps because I was born in the plains of the province of Buenos Aires, known as the pampas, the fertile and green grasslands where crops are grown, and that extend beyond that province to cover a large area of Argentina. Since I was raised in the suburbs, our occasional trips out of the “urban cone,” as the huge urban area of Buenos Aires and its suburbs is known, were trips to flatlands, plains, and muddy rivers. Boring! Very boring! Please don’t misunderstand me; the pampas are green, full of cattle, they have large estancias or haciendas (farms), where you can enjoy some of the best beef in the world in the famous asados. In fact, they represent an enormous attraction to people from all over the world; but not that much for me.
I can honestly affirm that since I was very young, when I first saw the mountains of the Sierra in the province of Cordoba, I fell in love with elevations, hills, and high places. I can recall some of the most precious memories of my life on top a mountain. I remember when we used to go on vacation to a small town, Los Cocos, in Cordoba. One of my favorite activities was to climb to the “Flagpole” (El Mastil), actually a monument on top of a high peak of about 5,000 feet. It was good because I loved to get to the top and watch the breathtaking scenic view and I enjoyed doing it with one of my best friends—my father. It was an experience of contemplation, of beauty, of companionship, of friendship, and of awe. It was the beginning of my comprehension of the greatness of God, of the beauty of creation, and of a sense of what it means to experience God.
I can relate to the incident at the mount of the Transfiguration and perhaps most of you can, yet not necessarily in the same way—some may recall similar feelings standing by a creek and watching the waters move; or gazing at the colorful forests of an autumn landscape in New England. What the disciples saw in that mountain, some say it was Mount Hermon, others say it was Mount Tabor, was very special. Jesus took them there and while he was praying he was transfigured. He went through a metamorphosis; according to Mark, his garments became so shining white that they thought they were out of this world. Matthew, in a parallel passage, also saw his face shine “like a sun.” It was a sort of vision, certainly not of this world. Peter, James, and John, the circle of the “privileged” disciples who were there, also witnessed a conversation between the transfigured, celestial, shining Christ, and two of their heroes, heroes of the Israelite faith: Moses and Elijah. These two, the vision at the top of the mountain, the shining clothes, the cloud that engulfed them, and the voice from heaven, all signal the revealing message of God: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him.”
It was an incredible experience beyond whether it was just something taking place in their imagination or an actual phenomenon of physical transformation. Either way, it was powerful; it profoundly impacted these men. John and James, at least according to the biblical story, did not open their mouths. They were too terrified to talk, or perhaps full of awe, or dread. Peter, on the other hand, always prompt to jump and to react according to his impulsive nature, managed to mumble a proposal: “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." Mark’s take of Peter’s words was simply that he was talking nonsense. He was also terrified. At the same time, Peter’s words reflect the value of the experience: it is good to be here. Unfortunately, the event did not last long. After the cloud overshadowed them, Moses and Elijah were gone, and Jesus was the same one they knew in everyday life; Jesus the human, the one with whom they walked daily.
But they learned something important through this event. There are moments in life when we witness God’s movement, when we encounter God in a special moment, when we have a glimpse of God’s glory. We live in a tension between those glorious moments when we feel that very presence of God and the more frequent times when we are called to act, to get involved, to serve, to practice what comes by the inspiration of a God who, I have no doubt, is always inviting us to experience Him. Today’s passage is highly instructive on two aspects of our Christian life without falling into the pits of a confusing dichotomy between the spiritual or the “Holy” and the practical or the human. We are continually immersed both in our religious spiritual experience and in our daily practice of our faith. Looking at the passage we can venture to say that we are summoned by God to two things.
1. WE ARE CALLED TO EXPERIENCE GOD
Born and raised Baptist, I was exposed to the understanding that religion is something we must experience. Though it would be a little bold to assert that all Baptists understand their religious experience as a sort of existential occurrence, or a conversion, or a vision, or an epiphany, many would agree that faith brings us to experience God in a concrete way. No experience, of course, can be put into a mold. It varies from person to person. Yet, the claim is that somehow, in our own way, we can all feel that sense of awe, of wonder, that sensation of trepidation because we know by faith that we are standing in the presence of the Living God.
I have the utmost respect for those who have a different view of religion where the faith can be learned; where by a process of education, or by participation of rituals and sacraments, one belongs to the Christian Community and subscribes to the tenets of the church. Doctrine can be enlightening and the help of mediators can be useful to somehow bring us into the stream. Yet, I prefer to believe that beyond the rational, in the realm of the non-rational, I can have an encounter with the Living God. Many call it an experience. A special moment or moments when, like Jesus’ disciples, we feel that sense of awe, or dread, or fear because we are physically aware of God’s presence near us.
Southern Baptist Scholar William E. Hull, writing on a booklet titled The Meaning of the Baptist Experience, characterizes our Baptist faith as one that dwells on experiencing God. Hull says that, “an experience begins to take shape when an individual becomes so engaged in some aspect of life that the attention is focused, the mind is stimulated, and the emotions are stirred.” Since we all have different ways of apprehending the meaning of our experience, it becomes very unique to us; very personal.
Our passage today is an enticement to go up to the top of the mountain, or walk by the riverside, or lay on a grassy, green field; perhaps stay in the peace and privacy of our room. Wherever it is, let us seek the encounter; let us look for the experience; let us be nurtured by the very presence of God so we are equipped for the journey. We can do it as individuals in our personal search, but we can also do it as a family of faith. We can do it in prayer together; we can do it in worship; we can do it in a retreat; we can do it through contemplation, or solitude, or meditation, or simply by praying for one another. We can do it! We can experience the Living God day in and day out so our lives are continually transformed.
2. WE ARE CALLED TO WALK WITH JESUS
Walking with Jesus is walking our own walk; it is dealing with the challenges of our daily life, coping with our own struggles, and going through our pains and sorrows. But most importantly, this walk with Jesus implies living our lives guided by his example, inspired by his teachings, and motivated by his sacrifice. This is utterly difficult, especially if we respond to Jesus’ challenge of picking up the cross and following him. Yes, sometimes it seems painful to come down to the valley after the experience of the mountain. For that reason Peter said, “It is good to be here.”
But while at the mountain, when the apostles were watching the glory of God with their own eyes as it manifested itself in the transfiguration of Jesus, God’s cloud engulfed them and they heard God’s voice loud and clear, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” The God we can experience, who can impact our lives for ever, calls us to listen to Jesus as we walk with him our in our daily lives. We can listen to Jesus—not perhaps in an audible way—when we read the Sermon on the Mount; when he calls us to love God and neighbor, or to turn the other cheek, or to mend the wounds of someone injured like the Good Samaritan did. We can listen to Jesus when he said,
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
Because he has anointed me
To bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
And recovery of sight to the blind,
To let the oppressed go free,
To proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."
But listening to Jesus is not just an intellectual exercise; it is a call to walk with him and engage the practice of our faith. It is serving, proclaiming, teaching, and fleshing out the life of Christ in us. Such a life, again, is a difficult one but remember, we may be in the valley but we have been to the mountain top and God is always with us. Canadian Baptist Henry Blackaby in his famous curriculum “Experiencing God” claims that our best way to experience God is by joining God in what God is doing in the world. That is what the disciples learned as they walked with Jesus; they joined Jesus in his mission.
Life has its ups and downs, yet we can certainly claim that God is with us all the time. In fact, when I speak of experiencing God, I hope to experience him all the time, not just once in a while. Because it is this experience, this encounter, this contemplation, this wonderful opportunity to meet God, who is at the center of our lives, that empowers, and nurtures our lives for our mission and our daily walk. Let us seek God with all our soul, with all our strength, and with all our heart.
A Race We Need to Run
Old Mystic, February 15, 2009
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Summary
As Christians we are called to run the race of a life of sacrifice and discipline, where we live in a profound relationship with the Living God. Grounded on such a relationship, we can assume the responsibility of bringing the Good News of the Gospel to those around us; a Gospel love, peace, and justice for a needy world.
Sermon
I must confess that I am fond of sports metaphors and illustrations because they depict so well our human plight in seeking success in what we do, in reaching goals, and being effective in our endeavors. In sports we clearly see the contrast between agony and ecstasy; between victory and defeat; between joy and sadness. It is interesting to watch how much we can contemplate in sports the display of human passion, both good and sometimes not so good, sometimes pathological passion. Who does not warmly remember the 2004 ALCS series when the Boston Red Sox came from behind to beat the New York Yankees after being 0-3, with their backs against the wall? Tears came out of the eyes even of the most detached fans! And then they went to win their first world series in 86 years. What an amazing story of perseverance, discipline, and faith. I still remember the signs displayed by some fans: We believe!
Paul, the apostle, addressing the church in Corinth, knows that he is speaking to people who knew sports. Organized sports, as we know them, what we call the Olympics, began in the Greco-Roman world. And Corinth was the city where the famous Isthmian Games, only second in importance to the Athenian Olympic Games, used to take place. Now, the metaphors used in the passage we read today, though powerful and useful, they have their flaws. If we compare the race we are running as Christians with the race Paul uses as illustration, there are some crucial differences. He points to the fact that we receive a non-perishable wreath to crown our victory in our Christian life and that may be a good analogy. At the same time, in a sports race there is always one winner; only one takes the wreath of the victors; only one climbs to podium. The promised crown to the faithful in the race of life, however, is reserved for many. Having made such a clarification, let it be said that, I believe, Paul is trying to convey a powerful message to the church in Corinth: it is not so much about winning; it is not about defeating an enemy; it is about Running the Race We Need to Run.
But Paul uses a second metaphor, that one of a boxer that as such knows that serious, competitive boxing is more than throwing punches to his shadow. In both cases, whether a racer or a boxer, what it takes to win is discipline. He speaks of exercising control in all things, not running aimlessly, or beating the air. Paul is conveying the people of the church in Corinth a message that sounds appealing but at the same time cumbersome. Victory in life comes through discipline; through intentional, planned, organized, and carefully performed actions where we seek God and where we commit to fulfill our call to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ. All of this may sound difficult. Someone may say, “I did not come here today to hear about sacrifice, or work, or tough discipline.” Some other may think that to define Christian life in terms of discipline will turn people away; or perhaps somebody else would dare to say that the idea of living a life of discipline takes away their freedom or the possibility of “enjoying life.” But that is not how I understand discipline. That is not, I believe, what the apostle signifies when he speaks of discipline. Discipline is the means to an end: to an experience of joy, of ecstasy, of fulfillment, of anticipation, of a taste of God’s Peace in Jesus Christ, a peace that will be one day complete and perfect. Discipline is not deprivation; it is neither an exaltation of suffering nor sacrifice for its own sake. It is a road to the Living God.
My friends, we are called to Run the Race We Need to Run. And as I have already said, that requires discipline. So let me share briefly some thoughts about this discipline. In first place, Christian discipline is a relationship. It means that we deliberately, intentionally, and consistently seek God’s face; it implies that we employ our best efforts to come to the “Throne of His Grace.” Discipline is a relationship where we diligently approach the Living God to experience His incomparable presence. Paul speaks of self-control in this passage but he also knows well how human he is, as he confessed, “for I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do… “Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” Paul knew that only the relationship he had with God and Jesus Christ could empower, nurture, and sustain him in his journey. He said, “I know a person in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—[and] was caught up into Paradise and heard things that are not to be told, that no mortal is permitted to repeat.” What an experience of a relationship he had with the Living God!
A discipline of seeking to build a relationship with God is to practice what many call the spiritual disciplines. Those are spiritual practices that rooted in the Scriptures and in our Christian tradition we have consistently engaged—or not. We all know about the importance of prayer, or reflection on the Scriptures, or meditation; may be some have practiced fasting, or solitude; some may claim—rightfully so—that the experience God through service. Richard Foster in his famous book The Celebration of Discipline mentions inward, outward, and corporate spiritual disciplines and we can discern as we learn about them that each individual person will probably find their own way to practice some of them. It doesn’t matter how many, which ones, or how anyone would personally practice any spiritual discipline. What matters is that we honestly, humbly, and consistently look for intentional ways of engaging the Living God.
Sometimes we confuse spiritual disciplines with rituals. There is nothing wrong with rituals; they are ceremonies, acts, or customs that we perform that have the purpose of memory, of honor, and worship. But rituals are mere forms, methods, or procedures. We can do many things we believe that as rituals they are going to bring us closer to God and spiritual disciplines can be practiced through ritual. The risk, however, is that often times we fall into the pits of a ritualistic going through the motions.
Again, there is nothing wrong with rituals—after all I am promoting the use of systematic and organized spiritual disciplines. Whatever it is that we do, it must be done to encounter, engage, and establish a relationship with the Living God. It is in that relationship that our life is nurtured; it is that Person we need to know personally that the Scriptures are revealing; it is the true meaning of Emmanuel: God is with us, and we seek God, who is at the center of our lives. We are summoned by Paul to run a race and we can only do that with the discipline of a relationship with God.
Second, the discipline we need to Run the Race We Need to Run is costly. God’s grace is not cheap, it is costly. Jesus put it in very difficult terms, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Paul makes it look ugly: “I punish my body and enslave it, so that after proclaiming to others I myself should not be disqualified.” But the high cost of the discipline of Christian life is not so much about “renouncing to the world,” or giving up the “worldly pleasures,” or living an ascetic life with no joy. We don’t have to become monks and be confined in a monastery spending the rest of our life in contemplation—even though a little contemplation can certainly be good for us. On the contrary, we have the responsibility of sharing the joy of our relationship with God. This is proclaiming the good news: sharing by word and by deed that relationship with the Living God that Christ makes possible with our neighbors, our loved ones, and with the whole world.
The weight of our responsibility is heavy and the cost of our discipline is high for what is at stake. We are building the kingdom of God; we are shaping the future; we have a vision and the blueprints of God’s historical project of a new humanity. Proclaiming the gospel and bringing good news is not costly because we may suffer rejection; or because religion is out of touch with the reality of a secular age; or because we don’t want to surrender a lifestyle, or a career, or our simple routine of a life with little or no complications. Life will be and it is very hard! When all the things we value in this life come into focus with our calling, with bearing our responsibility, then they acquire meaning and then, only then, they get in line with our God given life purpose.
Sharing the good news is our lifestyle. When through our discipline we experience the Living God, we are equipped to live such lifestyle. The cost of such a lifestyle is high, as I said, because life, abundant life for others is at stake. But the discipline of our lifestyle is also costly because we are being constantly watched, sometimes judged, often criticized—perhaps with good reason, and many times ostracized, which brings along suffering. But who can take away from us the joy of standing before God face to face? Who can deny to us our experience of a relationship with the Living God? It is costly to be a witness, or a messenger; someone who reflect the character of Jesus Christ. But it is such a privilege that when we become aware of its greatness we want to respond like the prophet, “Here am I; send me!"
When we embark ourselves in the discipline of having a relationship with the Living God, the act of proclaiming the gospel becomes something natural. We can be articulate preachers who with eloquence and with nice words can explain the meaning of the good news. Or we can simply let people know that God is love and God loves them by… simply loving them. We can perhaps engage in acts of kindness toward our neighbor as an anticipation of the kingdom that is yet to come, but also as a confirmation of the good news that the kingdom of love, peace, and justice is already here and we are a clear sign. The gospel is a lifestyle; it is something that we flesh out; when we walk with God we only have to act naturally and our influence will make a difference.
There is no question, the responsibility of nurturing our lives is essential. There is so much at stake. We are those who bear the responsibility of being witnesses to Jesus Christ in Old Mystic and surroundings, following a rich Baptist tradition and a long history of sharing the gospel. We are aware of the fact that we need to grow; not so much because we want to be a larger church, or because we want to be viable, or because such occurrence will boost our pride and make us feel better. Growth is only a natural consequence of a life rooted in God through Jesus Christ and the joyful sharing of that experience with all those around us. And as we are called to this precious life of relationship with God and of purpose, we are also aware of the discipline we need. Let us diligently, consistently, and intentionally seek God, with all our heart and with all our mind, and let us flesh out that relationship in a way that witnesses to God’s amazing grace for all the world.
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Summary
As Christians we are called to run the race of a life of sacrifice and discipline, where we live in a profound relationship with the Living God. Grounded on such a relationship, we can assume the responsibility of bringing the Good News of the Gospel to those around us; a Gospel love, peace, and justice for a needy world.
Sermon
I must confess that I am fond of sports metaphors and illustrations because they depict so well our human plight in seeking success in what we do, in reaching goals, and being effective in our endeavors. In sports we clearly see the contrast between agony and ecstasy; between victory and defeat; between joy and sadness. It is interesting to watch how much we can contemplate in sports the display of human passion, both good and sometimes not so good, sometimes pathological passion. Who does not warmly remember the 2004 ALCS series when the Boston Red Sox came from behind to beat the New York Yankees after being 0-3, with their backs against the wall? Tears came out of the eyes even of the most detached fans! And then they went to win their first world series in 86 years. What an amazing story of perseverance, discipline, and faith. I still remember the signs displayed by some fans: We believe!
Paul, the apostle, addressing the church in Corinth, knows that he is speaking to people who knew sports. Organized sports, as we know them, what we call the Olympics, began in the Greco-Roman world. And Corinth was the city where the famous Isthmian Games, only second in importance to the Athenian Olympic Games, used to take place. Now, the metaphors used in the passage we read today, though powerful and useful, they have their flaws. If we compare the race we are running as Christians with the race Paul uses as illustration, there are some crucial differences. He points to the fact that we receive a non-perishable wreath to crown our victory in our Christian life and that may be a good analogy. At the same time, in a sports race there is always one winner; only one takes the wreath of the victors; only one climbs to podium. The promised crown to the faithful in the race of life, however, is reserved for many. Having made such a clarification, let it be said that, I believe, Paul is trying to convey a powerful message to the church in Corinth: it is not so much about winning; it is not about defeating an enemy; it is about Running the Race We Need to Run.
But Paul uses a second metaphor, that one of a boxer that as such knows that serious, competitive boxing is more than throwing punches to his shadow. In both cases, whether a racer or a boxer, what it takes to win is discipline. He speaks of exercising control in all things, not running aimlessly, or beating the air. Paul is conveying the people of the church in Corinth a message that sounds appealing but at the same time cumbersome. Victory in life comes through discipline; through intentional, planned, organized, and carefully performed actions where we seek God and where we commit to fulfill our call to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ. All of this may sound difficult. Someone may say, “I did not come here today to hear about sacrifice, or work, or tough discipline.” Some other may think that to define Christian life in terms of discipline will turn people away; or perhaps somebody else would dare to say that the idea of living a life of discipline takes away their freedom or the possibility of “enjoying life.” But that is not how I understand discipline. That is not, I believe, what the apostle signifies when he speaks of discipline. Discipline is the means to an end: to an experience of joy, of ecstasy, of fulfillment, of anticipation, of a taste of God’s Peace in Jesus Christ, a peace that will be one day complete and perfect. Discipline is not deprivation; it is neither an exaltation of suffering nor sacrifice for its own sake. It is a road to the Living God.
My friends, we are called to Run the Race We Need to Run. And as I have already said, that requires discipline. So let me share briefly some thoughts about this discipline. In first place, Christian discipline is a relationship. It means that we deliberately, intentionally, and consistently seek God’s face; it implies that we employ our best efforts to come to the “Throne of His Grace.” Discipline is a relationship where we diligently approach the Living God to experience His incomparable presence. Paul speaks of self-control in this passage but he also knows well how human he is, as he confessed, “for I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do… “Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” Paul knew that only the relationship he had with God and Jesus Christ could empower, nurture, and sustain him in his journey. He said, “I know a person in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—[and] was caught up into Paradise and heard things that are not to be told, that no mortal is permitted to repeat.” What an experience of a relationship he had with the Living God!
A discipline of seeking to build a relationship with God is to practice what many call the spiritual disciplines. Those are spiritual practices that rooted in the Scriptures and in our Christian tradition we have consistently engaged—or not. We all know about the importance of prayer, or reflection on the Scriptures, or meditation; may be some have practiced fasting, or solitude; some may claim—rightfully so—that the experience God through service. Richard Foster in his famous book The Celebration of Discipline mentions inward, outward, and corporate spiritual disciplines and we can discern as we learn about them that each individual person will probably find their own way to practice some of them. It doesn’t matter how many, which ones, or how anyone would personally practice any spiritual discipline. What matters is that we honestly, humbly, and consistently look for intentional ways of engaging the Living God.
Sometimes we confuse spiritual disciplines with rituals. There is nothing wrong with rituals; they are ceremonies, acts, or customs that we perform that have the purpose of memory, of honor, and worship. But rituals are mere forms, methods, or procedures. We can do many things we believe that as rituals they are going to bring us closer to God and spiritual disciplines can be practiced through ritual. The risk, however, is that often times we fall into the pits of a ritualistic going through the motions.
Again, there is nothing wrong with rituals—after all I am promoting the use of systematic and organized spiritual disciplines. Whatever it is that we do, it must be done to encounter, engage, and establish a relationship with the Living God. It is in that relationship that our life is nurtured; it is that Person we need to know personally that the Scriptures are revealing; it is the true meaning of Emmanuel: God is with us, and we seek God, who is at the center of our lives. We are summoned by Paul to run a race and we can only do that with the discipline of a relationship with God.
Second, the discipline we need to Run the Race We Need to Run is costly. God’s grace is not cheap, it is costly. Jesus put it in very difficult terms, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Paul makes it look ugly: “I punish my body and enslave it, so that after proclaiming to others I myself should not be disqualified.” But the high cost of the discipline of Christian life is not so much about “renouncing to the world,” or giving up the “worldly pleasures,” or living an ascetic life with no joy. We don’t have to become monks and be confined in a monastery spending the rest of our life in contemplation—even though a little contemplation can certainly be good for us. On the contrary, we have the responsibility of sharing the joy of our relationship with God. This is proclaiming the good news: sharing by word and by deed that relationship with the Living God that Christ makes possible with our neighbors, our loved ones, and with the whole world.
The weight of our responsibility is heavy and the cost of our discipline is high for what is at stake. We are building the kingdom of God; we are shaping the future; we have a vision and the blueprints of God’s historical project of a new humanity. Proclaiming the gospel and bringing good news is not costly because we may suffer rejection; or because religion is out of touch with the reality of a secular age; or because we don’t want to surrender a lifestyle, or a career, or our simple routine of a life with little or no complications. Life will be and it is very hard! When all the things we value in this life come into focus with our calling, with bearing our responsibility, then they acquire meaning and then, only then, they get in line with our God given life purpose.
Sharing the good news is our lifestyle. When through our discipline we experience the Living God, we are equipped to live such lifestyle. The cost of such a lifestyle is high, as I said, because life, abundant life for others is at stake. But the discipline of our lifestyle is also costly because we are being constantly watched, sometimes judged, often criticized—perhaps with good reason, and many times ostracized, which brings along suffering. But who can take away from us the joy of standing before God face to face? Who can deny to us our experience of a relationship with the Living God? It is costly to be a witness, or a messenger; someone who reflect the character of Jesus Christ. But it is such a privilege that when we become aware of its greatness we want to respond like the prophet, “Here am I; send me!"
When we embark ourselves in the discipline of having a relationship with the Living God, the act of proclaiming the gospel becomes something natural. We can be articulate preachers who with eloquence and with nice words can explain the meaning of the good news. Or we can simply let people know that God is love and God loves them by… simply loving them. We can perhaps engage in acts of kindness toward our neighbor as an anticipation of the kingdom that is yet to come, but also as a confirmation of the good news that the kingdom of love, peace, and justice is already here and we are a clear sign. The gospel is a lifestyle; it is something that we flesh out; when we walk with God we only have to act naturally and our influence will make a difference.
There is no question, the responsibility of nurturing our lives is essential. There is so much at stake. We are those who bear the responsibility of being witnesses to Jesus Christ in Old Mystic and surroundings, following a rich Baptist tradition and a long history of sharing the gospel. We are aware of the fact that we need to grow; not so much because we want to be a larger church, or because we want to be viable, or because such occurrence will boost our pride and make us feel better. Growth is only a natural consequence of a life rooted in God through Jesus Christ and the joyful sharing of that experience with all those around us. And as we are called to this precious life of relationship with God and of purpose, we are also aware of the discipline we need. Let us diligently, consistently, and intentionally seek God, with all our heart and with all our mind, and let us flesh out that relationship in a way that witnesses to God’s amazing grace for all the world.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
