This sermon was preached on June 2nd at Trinity Episcopal Church in Excelsior.
You can listen to the sermon at Trinity's website: http://trinityexcelsior.org/2013/06/03/faith-is-the-word-by-reverend-aron-kramer-6-2-2013/
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Proper 4C, June 2 2013
The Voice is a reality television singing competition; the
concept of the show is to find new singing talent contested by aspiring
singers. The contestants are voted into each round by the American public,
well, those who watch the show. The series has a panel of judges who critique
the contestant’s performances. Judges also serve as a coach, guiding their
teams through the season. The judges compete to ensure that their act wins the
competition, making them the winning coach.
Adam Levine, the Maroon 5 lead singer, and a long-standing
coach on the show, was caught in a surprising moment this week. How many of you
heard him say, “I hate this country.” Of course Twitter blew up, literally,
calling him unpatriotic, and a bad person and I am sure a number of other
things I can’t say in this sermon.
I am not willing to go there, I think he was expressing his
frustration at losing two of his favorite singers, he was deeply disappointed
because he invests himself greatly into the people he chooses to coach. It can
be easy to feel disappointed, especially when results are out of your hands,
when your success depends on other people. It was unfortunate how Levine
expressed his disappointment, but I think Adam Levine is probably a wonderfully
patriotic and passionate American. He was born in LA after all.
The interesting thing, and it may only be interesting to me,
is that none of you here today jumped on Twitter and started raging about how
unpatriotic Jesus is. Of course Devon probably would have put you in a corner
or something worse if she caught you tweeting during Church, but most likely,
none of you will take to Twitter to talk about how Jesus was quite similarly
disparaging his own people. “I tell you this,” Jesus says in todays Gospel,
“not even in Israel have I found such faith.”
Now, I wish I could paint a picture of Jesus saying these
words in the same way Adam Levine did. One of the Disciples, hanging around
Jesus, heard Jesus mutter under his breath, “These darn Israelites are so
faithless, if only they could be more like the Centurion.” I imagine the
disciple turning around and whistling as if he hadn’t heard anything at all,
the whole time thinking to himself, how can I write a global best seller about
this perfect guy calling me a faithless person?
Instead, as it says in the Gospel, Jesus didn’t mutter under
his breath, or accidently leave the microphone on, he walked right up to the
crowd and said, “You all don’t have enough faith!” That’s downright mean, if I
said that to anyone here, you would kick me out of this sanctuary in a minute,
or you would leave the church and never come back. We don’t want to hear that
we are faithless people; we don’t want to hear that someone else has more
faith.
Luckily the shock, and maybe even our disappointment, is
watered down in the seven verses following todays Gospel reading, chapter
7:11-17. Jesus leaves the Centurions place and goes to another community where
he raises a dead man, a man we know nothing about; the son of a mother who did
nothing more to show she was a faithful person than by grieving the death of
her son. In her grief, Jesus has compassion. Suddenly having faith takes a
different turn
With that additional context, it becomes clear today’s
Gospel text is not about how we determine who is faithful and who is not, but
rather how we are faithful and how our faith is observed. It becomes a text
that reminds us faith is not a complex journey of ins and outs, theological and
scientific treatises, it is simply about knowing that Jesus could heal your
friend from afar, not only by touch, but by a word spoken distantly from the
one who is sick. It becomes a text that asks us to find surprise and hope in
places we wouldn’t expect to find it.
Are there things in your life you don’t think can surprise
you anymore? Are there things in your life that just don’t hold the same
mystery, the same power, the same inspiration they once did? Are these things
filled with disappointment, with frustration when they once were filled with
love and passion? Did Jesus feel this way about the Israelites, or maybe about
his own ministry? Where do we go to rediscover mystery, adventure?
When I was the Associate Rector in Duluth, at St. Paul’s, I
found myself in an uninspired place; I wasn’t sure what was next. My spiritual
director at the time remembered that I had loved reading fantasy novels when I
was younger. She looked at me during a moment of stillness and said, “Go back,
read the novels of your childhood”.
I did, and you know what, I found out what was next. I
discovered imagination that had fallen asleep, or more likely, had been put to
sleep by my mundane, in the moment loving adult self, a self that was unwilling
to take risks or hope for a future better than the present. To this day I read
a fantasy novel from my childhood each month, old Dragonlance and Forgotten
Realms novels. I read them because they hold a key for unlocking something in
my heart and mind I can’t find anywhere else.
What that key unlocks is my imagination, my desire to explore
and go on adventures. After all, we are all explorers, God created us, I
believe, with this one common bond, that we are meant to explore, meant to
expand our worldview and broaden our perspectives as part of the human family.
We seek not because it is the right thing to do; not because
it is the Christian thing to do; we seek not because we ought to. We seek, we
explore and we imagine because God is constantly at work, and constantly moving
in our lives. God is an ever-living surprise, so to speak, God is always doing
something new and we desire to be a part of that. We seek so we can discover
our deepest desires, so we can align our hearts and minds with the adventure
that God has set us upon.
I heard the other day the universe is constantly expanding
at this alarming yet amazing rate. Well, we are just like the universe,
constantly seeking what is next. Even against our will sometimes, we are thrust
into situations where our worldview is expanded and accelerated beyond what we
ever imagined it could be. Things we thought held no inspiration for our lives
become alive with possibility. People who were passersby yesterday become
mentors and heroes the next.
Imagine with me for a moment, imagine what the world would
be like if we decided it was complete, there was no need for adventure, for
exploration. Think of what we would miss if we didn’t dream about what the
future could be. Think about the children and their wonderment, the questions
our kids ask us about random and funny things, seemingly simple topics that
stump even the most intelligent adult.
Which of the children here today will be the next great
physicist to discover I don’t even know what. Which of these children here will
be the first to discover the next great environmental breakthrough? Which of
these children present today will create the next world changing technology in
how we communicate with one another?
And which of these children would have a chance to do that
if we prevented them from being filled with wonder, if we prevented them from
being surprised by God at work in the world. Not a single one of these children
would grow up to change the world if we told them everything in the world is
complete and there is nothing more for them to do. Surprise and wonder are vital
parts of our lives, of how we experience the world and the people around us.
I am not sure what Jesus’ intentions were when he determined
the crowd travelling with him less faithful. How do you determine faithfulness?
How do we know if a person is faithful or not? What makes a faithful person?
Christianity, Christian faith is not demonstrated by a recitation of facts.
There is a big difference between belief and faith; too often belief has taken
the place of faith in our Christian context. Is faith anything more than
accepting fully the promise of God for a better future, for a better world?
Last week at the top of the steps stood my daughter, arms
extended, standing firm on the last step before the landing. She looked at me
determinedly and said, with a hint of a smile on her face, “What is the
password?” First I said, “Naomi is the greatest daughter in the world.” She
didn’t budge. So I said, “Naomi is the cutest and most beautiful girl in the
world!” Still she didn’t budge, So I dug deep into my memory and said, “Naomi
is my favorite daughter.” She laughed and said, Daddy! I’m your only daughter!
Then asked if I gave up, to which I said yes. She leaped up and jumped into my
arms and said, “The password is faith, Daddy! The Password is faith!”
Faith IS the password, its surprisingly simple, that is all
we need to know, faith isn’t some convoluted complicated process of
understanding, faith is simply faith. We go through life so often looking at
disappointment and losing surprise. Maybe we should consider losing our
disappointment and try discovering the surprise.
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