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August 19th, 2007—Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: Isaiah 5:1-7; Psalms 80:1-2, 8-18; Hebrews 11:29-12:2; Luke 12:49-56
Our Old Testament readings today both play with the image of God as vine keeper and his people, the people of Israel, as a vineyard. The image is apt for it recognizes God as one who grows his precious creation, cares for it, tends to its needs, and prunes it when necessary. God’s people are in constant need of His care and instruction—but when they start wielding ‘wild grapes’, that is, they start living life in a way that God had not intended for them, God’s judgment falls.
We don’t like to talk about God’s judgment much in the church today. And for good reason—many here perhaps grew up with a sense of God as a Zeus-like figure in the sky who would reign down thunderbolts on us if we spoke out of turn or missed Sunday school. Perhaps parents even threatened you with God’s judgment should you not fall in line and do what they say.
It’s unfortunate that this has occurred, because I think it’s really missed the point. All of God’s story with His people—as it’s told in our Scriptures—is about God choosing special individuals, families, and a nation to be different. God’s judgement was simply the consequences of creation stepping out of its intended purpose. It came when God would call people to seek justice, to meet the needs of the helpless, and instead His chosen people would wallow in their sin and selfishness. God called, and continues to call, His people to be unique and to resist the temptation to blend in to the culture surrounding them—no matter what the cost.
The book of Hebrews reminds us of these great individuals who lived by faith and followed God through difficult circumstances. The author reminds us of the time God saved a whole nation running for their lives and freedom; who walked straight through the Red Sea while the water overwhelmed their pursuers. We are reminded of a prostitute name Rahab that assisted Israel in its attack on Jericho and so was spared. We hear about the faith of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, and David—all great warriors who knew their strength came from God—all who placed their trust in God no matter the personal tragedy, gross sin, or great odds they dealt with on a regular basis.
These people were promised that God would be with them and would bless them—yet they were forced to experience great suffering: “others were tortured…others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned to death, they were sawn in two, they were killed by the sword…destitute, persecuted, tormented…” (Heb. 11:36-37) Despite their faith…perhaps even because of their faith, these great men and women experienced great hardship.
If there’s one thing we’re certain of it’s that the life of faith will bring suffering. We will be tested by life and death circumstance, we will all get sick, and we will all die. We will all suffer broken relationships, sometimes because of our faith, and we will all struggle to forgive. We will all make mistakes that will cling to our memories as we wrestle with their consequences. And we will all struggle to surrender ourselves to God to allow him to transform our lives.
Jesus knew it would be this way for those who would follow him, and he let them know it. “Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three…” (Luke 12:51-52)
These are the kinds of words we don’t like to hear from Jesus. At Christmas time our ears reverberate with the words sung at the birth of Christ, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, and goodwill towards men.” (Luke 2:14). But now as Jesus looks ahead to his death in Jerusalem he promises not peace, but rather that those who would follow him would see conflict and suffering. Jesus was making it known to his followers that lives patterned after him would see suffering. There would be people, even loved ones, who would not understand why these disciples would abandon their lives to follow a carpenter. Like the ‘heroes’ of faith in the Hebrews passage, Jesus disciples could expect suffering for their faith…
“Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised…” (Heb. 11:39)
That verse sticks out at me like a sore thumb. I’m so used to instant gratification—I get out of joint when the drive-thru at Tim Horton’s takes too long!—that the idea that faith won’t immediately pay off upsets me. But really that’s what faith is all about, it’s about seeing new possibilities, looking forward to God’s promises, yet not being dependent on them to immediately follow our step of faith. Faith has to be tested for it to be true faith, and most times that testing is suffering of some kind.
So is it worthwhile to even attempt this life of faith? This life that would lead to hardship, would lead to strained relationships with family and friends? This life that would demand all of us?
Yes…because the faith-life is a transformed life…and a transformed life can accomplish the impossible. Here’s a short story of the power of belief:
“Remember the four-minute mile? People had been trying to achieve it since the days of the ancient Greeks. In fact, folklore has it that the Greeks had lions chase the runners, thinking that would make them run faster. They also tried drinking tiger’s milk—not the stuff you get down at the health food store, but the real thing. Nothing they tried worked. So they decided it was impossible for a person to run a mile in four minutes or less. And for over a thousand years everyone believed it. Our bone structure is all wrong. Wind resistance is too great. We have inadequate lung power. There were a million reasons.
Then on man, one single human being, proved that the doctors, the trainers, the athletes, and the millions of runners before him, who tried and failed, were all wrong. And, miracle of miracles, the year after Roger Bannister broke the four-minute mile, thirty-seven other runners broke the four-minute mile. The after that three hundred runners broke the four-minute mile. And a few years ago in an single race in New York, thirteen out of thirteen runners broke the four-minute mile. In other words, a few decades ago the runner who finished dead last in the New York race would have been regarded as having accomplished the impossible.
What happened? There were no great breakthroughs in training. No one discovered how to control wind resistance. Human bone structure and physiology didn’t suddenly improve. But human attitudes did.”
The power of faith transforms circumstances and situations, and it transforms us. Equipped with the Holy Spirit and living by faith we are able to accomplish the impossible. As we place our trust first in God, we can begin to see ourselves as God sees us: as his beloved creatures, his children, his ambassadors on earth. And as this truth settles into our hearts it transforms our thinking. We suddenly realize that all things are possible with God—life can be filled with adventure and excitement as we allow God to use us to shape and reshape the world.
At Youth Synod this year the theme was “The Mission is Possible” and we talked a lot about making a difference in the world. As followers of Jesus, when we’ve surrendered our lives to Christ and walk his path, it is only natural that we should impact those around us. When we pray and trust in God he will transform our character—we go from being quitters to being finishers; we change from being negative and critical to being joyful and seeing new possibilities; we go from being short-tempered and vengeful to being peaceful and content; we go from aimlessness and restlessness to living a life of purpose and fulfillment.
Through the lens of faith we get a hold of a vision for our families, and for our church, that is beyond what we currently see. We can see a church full of people, smiles on faces, hearts excited to meet together to worship and share in fellowship. Through the lens of faith we see that we are joined here today by the saints of every generation, gathered around Christ’s table with his very disciples. Through the lens of faith we can see our community transformed where lives devastated by alcoholism, drug addiction, and violence find healing, hope, and purpose in Jesus Christ. Through the lens of faith we can see the potential of the Anglican Church and recognize our crucial role in being facilitators of renewal as conduits of the Spirit.
Running the race of faith is the most exciting life we can live. It is a race wrought with challenges and moments where we want to give up. In this race we are always aware of our shortcomings and weaknesses—just as a runner feels his weak knee with every step so we must face our sin honestly and boldly. But then we lay it down, and we give up anything that would hinder our progress: negative thinking, past hurts and regrets, habitual sins—all of these we decide we’re not going to carry anymore and we leave them at Christ’s altar.
I believe God’s Word for us today is to run the race of faith expecting God to use us to accomplish great things. But to do this, we must let go of trying to live our lives our own way and instead turn to Christ who perfectly showed us how we are to live this life. We follow his teachings and we mimic his actions as he surrendered his will to God’s and went all the way to the cross to demonstrate his love for us, and his commitment to God.
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith…” (Heb. 12:1-2)
Amen.
The Difference of Faith-Vision
To run the race of faith:
The power of faith—race story—making a difference, transformed lives
We will look different—God will judge—suffering because of it will follow
We must let go of everything that would hinder us—sin, attitudes, small-thinking
Inner transformation
We must turn to Jesus, Jess’ story of a transformed life
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