Sunday, July 31, 2022

July 31, 2022 - The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Lectionary Readings

O Lord, help us to know that our lives are safe in you in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

            We’ve all heard the phrase “you are what you eat.” And there’s a lot of truth to that idea – what we consume makes us who we are. This is true not only of foods but any sort of content that we take it.  If we listen to a lot of partisan news, we shouldn’t be surprised to find ourselves with stronger than average political opinions. If we read a lot of poetry, our speech might be a bit more lyrical. Studies have shown that children who watch violence in cartoons are then more violent in their interactions with others. We become what we consume.

            This is both good news and bad. It is good news because by being conscientious of what we are consuming, we can better shape who we are becoming. The bad news is that all of those seemingly insignificant and little decisions actually matter; and by not paying attention to them, we become a detriment to ourselves. Because there is so much content coming at us these days with technology and ads everywhere, we really need to be careful about what we are consuming.

The danger is that people who know a lot more about human psychology than we do are the ones creating strategies to manipulate and influence our thoughts and actions on so many topics. This is how companies like Facebook and Google make so much money – through driving our habits with the end goal of delivering our attention to advertisers. We are all being manipulated to think, vote, purchase, value, and act in certain ways, and if we don’t think so, well, then we’re doubly the fool.

            My point here is not to say that we all need to stop watching media and never use technology – it’s just we need to be aware that we are what we consume and therefore be more intentional about what it is that we are consuming. Maybe you get your news from Fox, or NPR, or CNN, or the Late Show, but how much time are we consuming God’s Good News in reading Scripture? Maybe it’s been a long day and we just want to sit on the couch and turn our brains off for a few minutes, so we decide to start scrolling through some app on our phone. Well enough. But how much time do we also sit and listen for what God has been trying to tell us?

            It’s a question of where we invest our attention. And it really is an investment – because there’s going to be a return on it. What we focus on matters. This is exactly the point that St. Paul is making in the reading we heard from Colossians: “Since you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is.” Does our diet subsist of the things of God, or the things of culture?

            The other Scripture readings that we heard this morning give us examples to consider. In Hosea, we heard God saying of his people, “I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love. I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks. I bent down to them and fed them.” This is one of the most tender, grace-filled passages in all of Scripture. God’s mercy and love are on full display. Even in our disobedience, God lavishes us with favor and forgiveness. In our apathy, God meets us with compassion and unconditional love. How much time do we spend steeping ourselves in the beauty and grandeur of God’s gracious love? How often do we rejoice in and reflect on the great things that God has done for us? How often do we enjoy our forgiveness instead of worrying about our sins, shortcomings, and mistakes? Hosea reminds us just how much good there is for us to surround ourselves with.

            The counter-example is found in Luke with a parable about the sort of person we all know, often because we meet them in the mirror. Jesus tells a story about a man who was so wealthy that he was obsessed with creating more and bigger spaces to store his wealth and ended up missing out on the gift of life. Instead of focusing on God’s grace, so often we focus on metrics. What is my GPA, or BMI, or ROI? How many likes did my post get? How many people come to my church? How much is my salary? How well behaved or successful are my kids? How envious are others of my life? The problem with chasing those sorts of metrics is that the answer is never “enough.” The man in the parable had more than enough, but it wasn’t enough for him. Only one thing is infinite, and that is God’s love. When we invest in anything else, we’ll always come up short.

            There’s a classic novel in which a character is asked to do something a bit shady. When he hesitates, he is assured that he will be well paid, to which he responds “I ain’t rich, I don’t need money.” How true this is. It is as Jesus says, “We cannot serve God and wealth.” When we major in minor issues and pursue that which can never satisfy us, we become the object. It’s not that we use money to serve our needs, rather we end up serving our money, or reputation, or influence, or looks, or whatever the particular idol happens to be.

            Friends, there is a better way. It is the difference that Christ makes. St. Augustine famously said that “Our hearts are restless until they rest in God.” All of those things that we try to store in our barns will not satisfy us. They will not give us peace. They will not take away our fears. They will not give us lasting hope. They will not assure us that we are loved. And they will certainly not be with us beyond the grave.

            There was a theologian in the medieval period who wrote extensively about God. He recorded that one day he had a vision of God saying to him “You have written well about me, what do you desire?” His response was “Lord, nothing but you.” When God is at the center, everything else falls into place. Like the sun in our solar system, God is the only thing bright enough, big enough, enduring enough for everything else to orbit around it. If the sun were smaller, planets would fly out of their orbits and drift aimlessly. If the sun were dimmer, we would not have the warmth to make life possible. If the sun were like a fleeting comet, it could not be the foundation that we count on.

            Other things like career, politics, family, hobbies – these are not bad things by any means. They just can’t serve as the center. How do we put God at the center? A lot of it comes down to investments – of time, of energy, of money, of priority. An honest look at the calendar, the bank account, and relationships will tell us where our time is invested. Do we spend more on vacation, streaming services, or eating out than we do charitable giving? That tells us something. Do we spend more time on Instagram or watching television than in prayer, reading Scripture, or just being quiet? That’s an insight into our priorities. Do we know the names of more people at the bar, coffee shop, or gym than we do at church? That reveals something about how regular our attendance is. Do we spend our time with people who can do us a favor more than we do with those Jesus calls “the least of these?” That says something abour our values. Are we divided along lines of race, class, party, and preference because we focus on our differences, or are we so united in God’s love for us all that we can say that “there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, Democrat and Republican, rural and urban, college graduate and high-school dropout, gay and straight, young and old, normally bodied and differently-abled, for Christ is all in all!” If we are being torn apart by differences, then perhaps it is because we’ve been focusing on the wrong things.

            To be clear, it’s always about grace. There isn’t one ounce of guilt in any of this – it’s a question of investments and what we focus on. Because, as I’ve said, there is only one thing that will give our hearts rest, only one thing that can assure us that all shall be well, only one thing that ultimately matters – and that is God.

            This is what St. Paul is getting at when he writes, “Your life is hidden with Christ in God.” “Hidden” here does not mean secretive, but rather something like enveloped, secured, guarded. Because our lives are hidden and secure in God, we are then free to not waste our time chasing things as fleeting as wealth, reputation, or awards. At St. Luke’s, something we prioritize as the central point of our identity and mission is coming and seeing the difference that Christ makes. We are able to live differently, more freely, more joyfully, more gracefully, because our lives are secure in God. We call it a children’s song, but the truth is for all of us – he’s got the whole world in his hands. And that reality makes all the difference.

            I’ll conclude with a story that I’ve always found powerful about the difference that can happen when we know our lives to be hidden in Christ. In August, the Church will commemorate the feast day of Jonathan Daniels. He was born in New Hampshire in 1939 and was raised in the Church, but after some hardship and doubt, he fell away from faith. In the spring of 1962, while studying English literature at Harvard, he decided to go to church on Easter Sunday and had a profound experience of God’s holiness and love and found himself renewed by grace in the faith. After graduation, he entered seminary and was on track to become a priest after his anticipated graduation in 1966.

            However, and that’s a word that marks the difference that Christ often makes in our lives; however, in March 1965, he and other students heard about an invitation from a minister in Alabama named Martin Luther King. He was asking for students from around the country to join him for a march in Selma for civil rights. So Daniels and a few other students were discussing making the trip.

            In his diary, he wrote “I had come to Evening Prayer as usual that evening, and as usual I was singing the Magnificat with the special love and reverence I have always felt for Mary’s glad song. Then it came. ‘He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble and meek.’ I knew then that I must go to Selma.” A quick note, this is the last Sunday of the month, meaning that tonight at 5:30pm, we will have Evensong right here. That is a great opportunity to come and focus on the things that are above.

            Daniels and a few others left for Selma on a Thursday, intending to stay for the weekend. But, as the Spirit would have it, they missed the bus back to Boston. How often it is that something has to go wrong for God to get our attention. The group started to talk about what their presence and then a quick departure must look like to those who lived in Selma. So they decided to stay longer. Daniels got to work in the community and helped with efforts to integrate the Episcopal church there, which was not met with wide support from the white members of the parish. But he persisted. Later in May, he had to return to school to take exams, but then returned to Selma in July. Much of his work was around building relationships and advocacy for those in need. And he continued the marches and protests, which landed him and a few others in jail on Friday afternoon after picketing some local businesses.

            They were released a week later and entered a local convenience store to get some refreshments. Daniels was a white New Englander, but two of his friends were African-Americans from Selma. When they entered the store, an unpaid deputy met them with a shotgun in hand and told them to get out. There was a brief confrontation and the deputy pointed the barrel at a black girl who was with them. Daniels immediately jumped in front of her and took the blast himself. To round out the story, the shooter was found not guilty by an all-white jury and the young girl he saved was Ruby Sales, who has been recognized as one of the most significant civil rights leaders in our nation’s history.

            Not many of us will ever find ourselves in a situation exactly like that, but we will find ourselves in situations in which the Gospel will make all the difference. Just a few days before his death, Daniels wrote in his journal, “I lost fear in Selma when I began to know in my bones and sinews that I had been truly baptized into the Lord’s death and Resurrection, that in the only sense that matters I am already dead, and my life is hid with Christ in God.”

            What we will soon receive is the bread of heaven and the cup of salvation. It is our hope that we really will become what we eat and in this sacred meal know the grace, love, and beloved community in finding that, indeed, our lives are hidden and secured in Christ.