Sunday, August 24, 2014

Sermon at the monastery, August 24 2914

I’d love to open this sermon with a little story, even a joke.  I really wanted to think of something clever to say about Peter, now that we have a Peter in the house.
I could take you through some historical or textual exegesis.  I could find a quote from someone to elaborate my points.
But that’s not what I’m supposed to say today.
What I have to say is too simple and too important to try to be clever or facile.  I just have to say it.
There’s just no getting around it.  Being a Christian is a counter-cultural choice.   In this country, after centuries - millennia - of Christendom, that fact is obscured.  As we become more secular and more diverse, however, the reality of following Jesus is re-emerging.
Just as Peter, in confessing Jesus as the Messiah, had no idea what he was getting into, so we find ourselves always out on a limb with Jesus.  Just as in Paul’s time, we are challenged to choose between belonging to Christ and belonging to an imperial culture of violence, oppression, and consumption.
Right after Peter makes this confession and Jesus gives him his teaching commission, he will see how hard it is to follow.  As Jesus tells the disciples that he will have to suffer and die, Peter objects.  He can’t accept yet that living the Christ-life will put him that deeply at odds with the empire.  And Jesus will call him “Satan” and a stumbling block, because his mind is not yet transformed.
And this is true for all of us.  Even the wisest among us struggle to understand and follow Jesus on a daily basis.  It’s great to be able to say that Jesus is Lord, but presenting myself as a living sacrifice is another matter.
When Paul calls on us to present our bodies as a living sacrifice, he is telling us that it’s not enough to say the right words or feel deep feelings  about Jesus.
It’s not enough to wear a cross while we benefit from the low wages of garment workers in Nepal or the deadly working conditions of so many in China, in Peru, in Appalachia.
It’s not enough to sing hymns, or even to pray for those we love, while we spend our money and our time pursuing the larger culture’s idols of power and comfort.
It’s not enough to read the Bible while we stuff ourselves with Big Macs and Dunkin Donuts.
It's not enough to enter a monastery or convent, to give away our goods, and deny our continued sharing in the sins of the world.

We are called to present our bodies - with brains, hearts, and all - as a gift from God and to God.
All of us, not just our minds or our hearts.  Our bodies, whole and entire, are at God’s disposal.

Like Peter, we are called to go through all the stages of discipleship.  We may begin with confessing Jesus, with finding that deep relationship, but that’s just the beginning.  The human fear of death and pain remains.  The cultural values that compete with the Gospel remain.  Like Peter, we are called to walk through those fears and competing values.  We are called to present ourselves as holy.
One of the most radical and difficult ways that we are called to be transformed is in our sense of ourselves and our place in community.  Paul doesn’t make this appeal to individuals living alone, working alone.  He knows that the first, great leap in our thinking is to become aware of our interdependence.  We are members of one another.  Whatever choices I make impact all those with whom I am bound.  And I am bound, even when I don’t want to notice it or claim it.  I am bound not only to my companion Elizabeth, not only to the brothers, not only to my family.  I am bound not only to those to whom I have vowed obedience.  Through the baptismal covenant I am bound beyond the Church, to every person.  In fact, I am bound before the baptismal covenant; the moment of baptism is simply the time when I acknowledge that fact and take responsibility for it.
I am bound not only to in the impact I might have on others, however.  I am bound just as much by the impact you have on me.  My life is incomplete when I am the only one acting in it.  You shape me, by what you do and what you do not do.  Your gifts enrich me.  Your griefs and your anger wound me.  I am called to receive from you, as much as I give to you.

We live in a world where our interdependence is both denied and distorted.  The United States was founded on an ideology of individual property for white men, combined with a theology of conquest.  The thread of community runs through our fabric as well, but it is so often a community for us, against others.  Our interdependence is acknowledged within a tightly bounded circle, and others are pushed out or killed.  We refuse to see how our actions impact others, unless we see ourselves as helping them.  We can see in Iraq how our assumption of our benign power makes us as dangerous as some who actively plan destruction.  When we are the center of the universe, it is very hard to learn from others.
We live in a world, too, where the ideology of individualism leads people to loneliness and isolation.  In that vacuum they look for meaning in objects, in things that cannot satisfy.  The rampage of addiction and violence in this country is directly linked to the denial that we belong to one another.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God.

Turn now.  Turn every day.  We are never done, never finished.

The world - God's good creation - depends on the choices we make.

I don’t know how else to say it.  I tried haiku:

Do not be conformed;
be transformed, with a new mind.
Seek God’s will for you.

I might write a song, a love song.  But I’m not sure how to start.

So I have to settle for Paul.
I could do worse.

Like Peter, we all have the keys of the kingdom.  Whatever we bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever we loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.  May we open the gates and swing wide the doors to our hearts and minds.  May we present ourselves as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God.