At St. Luke’s, we have an identity statement. I’ve never been much of a fan of mission statements because organizations invest a lot of time and money into creating one, and then everyone promptly forgets about it and gets back to business as usual. Furthermore, the mission statement of a Church is really quite simple: to do whatever it is that the Holy Spirit tells us to do. But an identity statement is different as it helps us to remember not what we are supposed to do, but rather who we are. And the difference between those two is significant.
The
things we are supposed to do, even if we call it our “mission” are still things
that we have to muster up the energy and the enthusiasm for. Simply put,
mission statements are all about the “law,” the “shoulds” of life. And we all
have enough shoulds already. But identity is different. Identity is a gift from
God – that we are the loved, redeemed, and Spirit-endowed people of God. Because
of the craziness and busyness of life, we often need to be reminded of who we
are. And when we know who we are, mission naturally follows.
Our
identity statement is that St. Luke’s is a place for all to come and see the
difference that Christ makes through abundant grace, intentional worship, and
beloved community. For one, it’s a lot easier than a mission statement to keep
in mind, and we’ve also made it a graphic instead of a paragraph, which is also
far better. I mention all of this because my preaching over the few months has
been highlighting aspects of this identity. We keep coming back to these basics
of who we are because when the foundation is solid, the house can stand against
all sorts of things that come up against it. But, as Jesus says in a parable,
if the house is built on sand, well, it will come crashing down in the storms
of life. Today, the emphasis is on the difference that Christ makes.
To
be clear, the difference that Christ makes is all the difference. Being a Christian
is not about becoming our best or fullest selves, rather Christianity is about
doing what is quite unnatural: taking the strange story of a Jewish peasant
from the 1st century who lived briefly, died violently, and rose unexpectedly
to be our story. Faith in Jesus is not some tool that we use to become nicer
people, have a better class of friends, or be seen as respectable members of
the community. Nor is faith about accepting Jesus into our hearts or inviting
him into our lives. That’s like welcoming the king to his castle – it already
belongs to him.
So often we think
of our lives as a play, and we are always the director, producer, writer, and
lead actor. This is the result of individualism run amok, as it has been doing
for a few centuries in European and American thought. But the reality is that
we are not the star of the show – rather we all have a supporting role in God’s
great drama. If we need a reminder of this, we have those stunning new photos
from the James Webb telescope that show us just how very, very big and old the
universe is and how, by comparison, insignificant we are. And yet, the love of
God for us makes all the difference. Because we are a part of God’s story, as
small and tiny as we may be, we are participants in the only story that matters
at all.
This is the
message that we heard in the reading from Hebrews this morning. Hebrews, we
think, was originally a sermon by an unknown preacher which eventually became a
letter circulated in the early Church. Hebrews was written during a time not
unlike our own – when weariness and discouragement were setting in. One of the
points of Hebrews is to encourage the faithful and give us the endurance we need
to keep the faith in a world of struggles.
What makes faith
so difficult isn’t so much that it is counter-cultural, though that can
certainly be a part of it. The messages that we receive from advertisers, politicians,
and influencers are generally the opposite of what Jesus teaches – that we are
to forgive those who wrong us, that we are to care for the least of these, that
we are to take up our crosses and follow Christ. To be sure, those can be difficult
things to do. But humans love doing difficult things. We go to the Moon, we
climb Mount Everest, we eat really spicy foods, we raise children, we take the
risk of love. A lot of people enjoy being unique and marching to the beat of
their own drums. So as difficult and counter-cultural as Christianity might be,
that’s generally not why people walk away from it.
Instead, the
reason why we need perseverance when it comes to faith is that it can be challenging
to see the difference that Christ makes. Sure, in particular instances we might
notice the difference – in moments of desperation, it is helpful to have a
prayer, in times of crisis it is good to have a community; but over the long-term,
it can be hard to notice the difference.
This is just my
take on things, but I think this is what we’re seeing with the decline in
church attendance over the pandemic. Yes, I realize some people are being
cautious about being in public, but concert and sports venues don’t seem to be
having any trouble selling seats. Restaurants might be struggling to find
servers, but not customers.
What happened is
that because, out of caution, we had to suspend in-person worship, many people
got out of the habit of coming to church. And coming to church is a way of
sustaining our faith throughout the week. Once we were able to reopen, many people
realized that they weren’t struck by lighting for not coming back to church,
not that we believe in a God who would do such a thing. And many people
realized that their lives felt no different whether or not they come to church.
It’s been 2 ½ years and some haven’t been to church. If you would have asked
them in January 2020 if they’d ever go that long without going to church they
would have said “of course not,” and yet, here we are.
People who walk
away from faith though would not call themselves atheists, they rarely leave the
Church in a huff over a disagreement, they mostly slip away and notice no
difference in their absence. The same thing was happening for the hearers of
Hebrews, and it is something we all contend with. They were saying prayers,
serving those in need, giving money to support ministry, forgiving those who
had wronged them and when they looked around, it didn’t seem as if their lives
were any better than the pagans,; in fact, maybe they sometimes were worse off.
It’s not quite stewardship
season, so you’ll hear more about that later, but it’s a question I wonder myself.
Each year, between giving to St. Luke’s and other charities, we give 10% of our
income – more than enough to cover a few nice vacations for our family. Obviously,
this is my job and I love being a priest, but it’s not the easiest job in the world.
Perhaps you find the sermons to be tolerable, but not much more. Maybe the
music isn’t your preferred style and it doesn’t quite resonate with you. It
could be that the formality and pageantry of the Church are confusing and seem
old-fashioned. Whatever the reasons, when the investments that we make in faith
in terms of time, money, and commitment don’t seem to make us any happier, any
less stressed, any less sinful, it’s only natural that we get discouraged and
wonder if faith is worth the cost.
So the preacher of
Hebrews writes to bolster us in the faith. We are reminded of all the other
actors who have shared the stage of God’s story with us. Earlier in chapter 11,
Hebrews speaks of Noah, Abraham, and Moses. We are reminded today of Rahab, Gideon,
Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, and the many other unnamed examples of
faith. What is interesting about all of the examples given is that none of them
lived perfect lives without hardship. Hebrews speaks of torture, imprisonment,
and wandering. We are not encouraged us with examples of prosperity, but of
struggle, reminding us of this great cloud of witnesses who persisted in faith.
What is lifted up
though is not the fortitude of Daniel, the courage of Esther, the boldness of
Ruth, the strength of Judith, or the faith of Mary. The witness of Hebrews is
not “try harder,” “just deal with it,” or “keep it up.” No, the message of
Hebrews is “look at Jesus” or we might say, come and see the difference Christ
makes.
Hebrews calls
Jesus the pioneer and the perfecter of our faith. By pioneer, we focus on the “come
and see” aspect of faith. A pioneer is a leader, a founder, a course charter.
Jesus gives us the path to follow, and it is a life that had its struggles and
pains. We look to Jesus and see the path to follow – of an unwavering confidence
in God’s presence in all things, of an undying commitment to loving at all
costs. This is the wonderful and abundant grace of God – we are not given a
book of rules to obey, we are given a person to know and follow. When we come
to Jesus, we see the path that leads through suffering into the love that makes
all things well.
Jesus is also the
perfecter of our faith, and this makes all the difference. None of us will live
perfectly, not even close. Jesus does for us what we cannot do – always having
perfect trust and reliance on God. And so when we are a part of his story
instead of trying to live for our own, we take part in a story whose outcome is
secure in the love of God. If we want to have the starring role in the story of
our own making, that’s fine. God has gifted us with that capacity. But, what we’ve
seen throughout history is that humans are only capable of writing tragedies. Every
human story is unfinished at the end, less than perfect along the way, and concludes
with death. God’s drama is different though, as the plot is about a peace that
passes all understanding, a grace beyond all deserving, and a love that gives
new life even in death.
The difference
that Christ makes is joy. Hebrews notes that as the pioneer and perfecter of
our faith, Jesus endured the cross for the sake of joy. In John, we hear Jesus
say, “I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that
your joy may be complete.” Jesus is the pioneer who guides us into the fullness
of joy. Jesus is the perfecter of our faith so that we don’t have to
manufacture our own reasons for being joyful, but rather we can enjoy what has
already been done for us. Jesus makes all the difference, as he gives us a joy
that the world cannot take away, that can never run out, that can never be
lost, and always has enough to be shared.
This is why we
endure in faith. This is why we give even if we are not sure of the impact, why
we sing even if we’re not all that into it, why we serve even though we’d
prefer to be doing something else – not because in and of themselves they give
us joy, but because they bring us to the joy of Jesus. Jesus is the wonderful,
beautiful, and joyous story that we have been given to have a role in. Time would
fail me to tell all the stories of people finding this joy, but now is the time
for us to run with perseverance the race that has been set before us, to take
our place in the great and unfolding story of Jesus.
