Thursday, March 15, 2007

3 Lent: Ten O'clock

The Ven. Howard Stringfellow III
March 11, 2007
Exodus 3:1-15; Psalm 63:1-8; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; Saint Luke 13:1-9

In the Name of the True and Living God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Once again, I am delighted to be with you. If DST should stand for Daylight Sleeping Time, I hope it’s not so for you for the next few minutes. My prayer for you is that you are keeping a holy and costly Lent for the love of Christ alone.

I want to convey the sincerely heartfelt greetings of Bishop Manasseh and all the people of Kajo-Keji whom I visited in January and who told me over and over again how deeply proud they are to be brothers and sisters of the people in the Diocese of Bethlehem. You cannot fully imagine the circumstances in which they live. I know I couldn’t imagine them before I went.

I would like to read something to you from the diary I kept when I was there.

“But I want now to make some notes about the term ‘subsistence economy.’ Features of it seem to be a lack of electricity and running water, very crude housing, the requirement that each person subsist on his own agricultural produce, usually farming, chickens, and goats, and the utter demand on time of the above. Thus work in the church is almost completely voluntary. The men apparently leave the domestic and agricultural work to their wives. Women remain thus chained to necessary and primary responsibilities while men are free to work on development and managing. There are times of course when the men find the primary responsibilities so demanding that they too join the women to complete them. I have not seen any men carrying water.”

“Though I noticed it first, the economic and infrastructural situation, however, fails to be the chief characteristic of the people. That honor belongs to their deep and yet (in every positive way) superficial faith in Jesus Christ. Every meeting begins with earnest spontaneous prayer, and every small speech and word of welcome begins with “Praise the Lord!” They mean it: they have been saved by Jesus Christ from so many things other than merely existential ones. They have been saved from war and the remnants of war, brief incursions and hostilities from their enemies, and land mines that are still being decommissioned by the United Nations. Every day’s activities conclude with a Scriptural reflection that invariably sews a credible connection between God's revelation and the dusty duties each person cannot but undertake to survive.

“The people of Kajo-Keji proudly identify themselves as your and my brothers and sisters, united as one family, as Canon Henry Leju said in greeting us, “by the sacred blood of Jesus Christ.” He and others could find, if they wished, so many things to distinguish us. Instead, he chose the Thing that unites us for time and for eternity.” It was a privilege to visit Southern Sudan as it is a privilege to extend their greetings to you.

Did you hear the Gospel? I ask you because Jesus speaks very stridently and high-handedly today. It’s the Third Sunday of Lent, and if we are to listen to some tough things, now, or never, is the time. Today he says, and I have trouble simply repeating the words: “unless you repent you will all likewise perish.” Who, really, wants to preach on that? Who, really, wouldn’t rather evade that, swerve around it, and tap-dance to a much different tune? “Unless you repent you will all likewise perish.” Jesus says this twice in today’s Gospel. The first time, he refers to some “Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.” My study Bible tells me that the Galileans had been slain by Pilate’s order while they were sacrificing, worshipping, at the temple in Jerusalem. Pilate, evidently could give an order to kill when he wanted. Jesus’ point is that the Galileans who were killed didn’t specially deserve to be killed. They were not worse sinners that other worshippers in Jerusalem. Everyone has the need to repent in order not to perish. Who, really, wants to preach on that?

On this Sunday, years ago, I heard a sermon about Moses, and the sermon went like this. Moses lives the good life tending his father-in-law’s sheep. The preacher said, if I remember correctly, that Moses had a Cadillac in the garage and a color TV in the den. This was years ago, but you see. Today it might be a Hummer and a plasma TV. But then something happens. God reveals himself not only to Moses, but to us, through the Scriptures, and Moses changes. He changes from a contented consumer living comfortably in the employ of his father-in-law to be an advocate for his people. Is advocate a biting word? For Moses really gets in the face of Pharaoh. He marches right in and says, “Let my people go.” Moses changes from a comfortable, risk-free life in the family business to taking big risks and not for himself but for his people and for God. Jesus asks something similar of us. We have to change, too, from living for ourselves to living for God, if we don’t already live for God. One thing that Moses knew, and we know too, is that big risks are easier to take when you know God is on your side.

And I once heard another sermon on the Epistle, a sermon not as spicy and culturally relevant as the one about Moses—there were no cars or televisions mentioned—but a good sermon about temptation and the assurance that our temptations are never stronger than we are, itself a fairly challenging idea. But it made the same point as the sermon about Moses: we have to change. We have to give in to fewer temptations if we hope to be forgiven for our sins. Again, having God on your side helps, not only in confronting present-day Pharaohs, but in resisting doing those things, those sinful and harmful things, which destabilize our families and our parish.

That, I believe, is what Jesus is telling us though most definitely he is telling us rather harshly. We have to change for the better if we hope to live. The Good News is that we can choose life rather than death, and God offers us life, offers us life in the person of his Son who died to open the way of everlasting life to all who put their trust in him. That’s very good news. But it’s not good news for passive people who wish not to have to repent or not to have to change. It’s good news for people, like Moses, who are willing to put aside the comfortable life to live the life God calls them to live.

Not one of us is free from the obligation to put a little more energy in our relationship with God. The burning bushes are around us, but we have to turn aside and to look and to listen. And we have to embrace, if not a wooden cross, at least the cross that God wants to give us—the cross that will mean the death of everything that hinders us from a full relationship with God, the very cross from which we shall be raised on the last Day.

In Christ’s Name, Amen.