Saturday, October 10, 2020

Sermon - Recipe for Joy - 19th Sunday after Pentecost (23A)

 19th Sunday after Pentecost                                                          Oct 11, 2020
Philippians 4:1-9, Matthew 22:1-14              Panzer Chapel Liturgical Service

Writer Robert Fulghum captured the imaginations of people all over the world when he published his first book.  His premise was this; that everything that we need to know about how to live our lives is learned not in business or graduate school, or even in high school or college, but in kindergarten, in the sandbox, or on the swings.  And he gives to us a list of how to live together so that we can get along:

  • ·       Share everything.
  • ·       Play fair.
  • ·       Don't hit people.
  • ·       Put things back where you found them.
  • ·       Clean up your own mess.
  • ·       Don't take things that aren't yours.
  • ·       Say you're sorry when you hurt someone.
  • ·       Wash your hands before you eat.
  • ·       Flush.
  • ·       Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
  • ·       Live a balanced life- learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
  • ·       Take a nap every afternoon.
  • ·       When you go out in the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.
  • ·       Be aware of wonder.[i]

Wouldn't it be great if life was as simple as all that, if we could be aware and a part of the wonders of life, by holding hands and enjoying being together? It sounds easy, but we all know it’s really hard to keep connected to the basic way of living.

Biblical scholars are divided on where this list from Philippians came from. Was it a compilation of Paul’s greatest moments in encouragement? Or was he trying to weave this list into a more cohesive and coherent method for honing in on joy?[ii]     

Stand firm, Paul says. Help others, be gentle, don't worry. Feel God's presence in the midst of these simple, yet difficult things. Pray and give thanks and rest in the peace that comes from trusting in the Holy to define who we are, rather than letting the world define us according to its standards.

As I prepared for today’s sermon, I kept coming back to the things which bring me joy. I thought of how I love this Fall season. As the fruit is picked and leaves fall from the trees, we experience the fullness of life, enjoying the fruits of our labors, but also filled with the hope of the Spring to come when the cycle begins again.

I thought about how much I love to make something from almost nothing. When I am knitting or crocheting a shawl, whether I keep it for myself or give it away, I am I not just making something useful. I am interweaving in each stitch prayers lifted up and a piece of my own heart. When I make a pot of soup or a loaf of bread, I choose a recipe and gather the ingredients in preparation for the work to come… chopping, blending, seasoning, heating… The sum is always greater than the parts, and the time and care and attention I take to prepare matters.

Joy comes best when our spirits are centered in the love and grace of God. But our joy cannot be rooted only in our own wants and needs. Joy is also revealed in how we treat the world around us – the people we encounter and the created world around us.

This joy made more real in the gentleness of our days, in how we respond to the slights and hurts of others, and how we reach out to those who are hurting. This gentleness is a fruit of the Spirit, a gift from God, and it must be harvested and experienced by others. Most often, joy is found in the knowledge and experience of God’s nearness to us, in good times and bad alike. 

When we use the word gentleness, we might think of something soft and dare I say, mushy. But that’s not the kind of gentleness Paul is talking about. He’s talking about a gentleness that is strong, a gentleness that is broad, a gentleness that is patient, a gentleness that fills the room and invites people to rest in its glory. Peterson’s The Message says, “Make it as clear as you can to all you meet that you’re on their side, working with them and not against them.”

When Paul says, “The Lord is near,” it’s a reminder that when we are connected to God, anxiety is a barrier to the fullness of that relationship. Sharing our needs with God and with others through our honest prayers and reciprocal friendships brings us closer to God and closer to one another. Joy is found in the communion we share when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and real in the midst of the stresses that threaten to take us down. That peaceful confidence defines what it means to live faithfully in joy.

Of course, Paul can’t leave it there. He has to throw in that messy word, “always.” How is that even possible – to always pray, to always rejoice, to always seek joy in Christ? Take out the word always and you have a definable, measurable plan of action. But that’s just not good enough for Paul or God. Rooted in our relationship with Christ, we are called to something more, something deeper, something eternal.

Think about a time when you felt impossibly close to God… immeasurably sure of your place in the Kingdom of God. Do you remember that joy, that peace, that completeness? God wants us to have that all the time. Paul is reminding us to keep tapping into the source of our joy. Make it a habit. Practice it every day. Think about what rejoicing looks like when things do go the way we plan, or even when they don’t. And then, Paul says, let that joy spill out. Let others experience it through you because God’s joy isn’t just ours. It belongs to everyone.

I have to say that this passage feels especially needed in these days. The world feels fraught with violence and anger. It’s a daily – even an hourly battle to stand firm in the joy of Christ. If Paul is right, we must be willing to reorient ourselves toward that kind of life. A life of hospitality, welcome, inclusion, and acceptance. We must be willing to be listeners, willing to find common ground, willing to learn something new, willing to change our minds… while at the same time, standing up for the kind of life we understand Christ wants us to live.

We all have worries – for the health, for peace, for safety. Paul implores us, “Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God” (4:6). Did you notice that this was not two complete sentences, separated by a period, but one sentence, with two distinct parts that depend on one another?

Don’t worry, says Paul, but get on your knees. Don’t worry, but pour it out. Don’t worry, but beg and plead and pound on the doorways of heaven with both fists, even as you know – not hope, not assume, but know – that you are heard and that answers are already all around you when you open your eyes again and put one foot in front of the other. Don’t worry because you don’t have time to worry; you are so busy bending God’s divine ear. Don’t worry because your life is now a prayer, and the answers are coming fast and furious and surprising. Don’t worry that the answer doesn’t fit what you think is best – God has an answer and we must practice putting our trust in God and living out the answer God provides.[iii]

God wants us to have peace, which often comes in surprising ways. Living in God’s peace is not about disengaging from life so that we don’t have conflict. Living in God’s peace is not about pulling away from conflicts that must be addressed. Living in God’s peace is more about shalom, translated from the Hebrew to mean “wholeness.” God’s peace is not about what’s needed for me or you as individuals, but really about living it out in authentic community.[iv]

When we are pressing on, we are really working toward the kin-dom rather than the Kingdom of God. When we think about the family or relational nature of God and how God works in the world, we can see ourselves as brothers and sisters in Christ, not just people to be ruled over. We are called to build the kin-dom, starting with our own community, our own lives, as we press on to where God has called us. This week, we acknowledge that this pressing on won’t happen without changing our minds, or without thinking on these things.[v]

Some texts lend themselves well to practical actions – ways to reach out, organizations to support, things that we can put on a task list, and check off as we complete them… we like that feeling of accomplishment in our faith lives as well as in our daily grind. But some passages require us to do something more difficult.

They ask us not to examine our work, but to examine our hearts… and to ponder what it means to be the children of God. Then and only then, will we be able to adjust the course of our lives and our behaviors so that we are living fulling in the grace and peace and love of Jesus Christ. This is not something that be accomplished in an hour or a day. It is the work of a lifetime. Our grateful living will only be accomplished if we stand firm and find joy.

Truth… Honor… Justice… Pleasure… Excellence… All are rooted in God's plan for creation and the created. Seeking them, pursuing them, witnessing them, doing them…this is the path to oneness with God. This is the path to oneness with each other. This is the path to peace... real peace... God's peace.

Last Sunday, many Christians celebrated the feast of St Francis. St Francis was a 12th-century Italian monk, who abandoned a life of luxury for a life of poverty and devotion to Christ. In our worship, we sometimes pray a portion of a prayer attributed to him. Oddly reminiscent of Robert Fulghum’s kindergarten rules, I felt like it was a good way to end our sermon today.

Let us pray:







 

 



[i] Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, 1996.

[iii] Ibid.

[iv] Troy Troftgruben, Preach This Week, Commentary on Philippians 4:1-9. 2017, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3444

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