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"On Being Refined" - An All Saints Sermon in a Season of Political Distress


Did you catch it? Did you catch who it is that Jesus commends for his understanding and spiritual maturity? "One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing ... "

(YOUTUBE - sermon starts at 39:00)

But wait a minute, I thought the scribes and the pharisees were Jesus' mortal enemies, his foils in our gospels as he put down the ways of old and inaugurates a new era. I thought the scribes and the pharisees were legalistic and narrow-minded, prone to heap burdens on people, and to miss the deeper meaning of God’s holy laws?

Two comments are required:
1.     Anti-semitism, much of it justified by a partial reading of our New Testament scriptures, is one of the great scourges of human history, and the fact that we are seeing a resurgence of it in our times is as sad a commentary as I can think of on the state of our life together.  The Anti-Defamation League logged a 57 percent rise in anti-Semitic incidents in the United States in 2017, compared to the previous year — including bomb threats, assaults, vandalism, and anti-Semitic posters and literature found on college campuses.  And in my Facebook feed this week, one of my lifelong friends posted a photo of temple his neighborhood of Irvine desecrated with hate speech spray-painted to the walls. We Christians owe a special responsibility, to our Jewish friends and to our common life, to condemn unequivocally all such acts, wherever they take place, including in our own midst.
2.     The second point is more general - this habit of putting people into categories is a very dangerous habit.  On the one hand, we can’t function without categories of some kind.  But to take these categories of our own making and to harden them, to sanction them with divine attribute, is idolatry, pure and simple.  "If your God," I once heard someone say, "If your God likes all the same people you like, and hates all the same people you hate, you have turned yourself into your God."

*****
The Jesus portrayed in our gospels is a prolific buster of categories. He does not traffic in prejudices of any kind. He takes people as they come and is quick to defy the expectations of even his closest confidants. Why, in just the last two chapters of Mark's gospel, Jesus has encountered a range of characters. He has shot down the rich man who wants a shortcut to heaven, his own disciples, James and John, who want positions of privilege in Jesus' administration, the chief priests of the temple in Jerusalem, who believe they have a corner on divine, and some Herodian authorities who try to trap him with a trick questions.

But along this same path, Jesus finds people who he embraces for their faithfulness and understanding, and these faithful come from all walks of life.  There is no predicting by any categories who Jesus will embrace.  There is the blind beggar, Bartimaeus, an outcast at the lowest position of society, and today there is this scribe, a learned and educated man.  And Jesus commends people, irrespective of their station in life, when they embody the deeper truth of God’s love for all people, and to these people, without discrimination, Jesus says, "you are not far from the kingdom ..."

*****
Perhaps you have heard it said that the Greatest Commandment can be easily remembered by the shape of the cross ...  “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your mind and all your strength” (vertical), and “you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (horizontal).

On this day, All Saints Day, we celebrate people who have lived cross-shaped lives. We recall to our memory those who have exemplified the faith, people who loved God with all their heart and mind and strength, and people who have loved their neighbors as themselves. These people show the way for us, reminding us that we, too, believe it or not, can be saints, too.

This is one of the earliest origins of the Protestant Reformation, a rebellion against the Catholic tradition of venerating the saints. I want to be careful  not to caricature it, because Catholics, too, understand that all people can be saints, but there were traditions and practices in the medieval Catholic Church that recognized as saints only those who had been elevated to a certain status by the hierarchs of the Catholic Church.  Protestants rebelled against this tradition, because they knew that this human system, like any human system, was vulnerable to corruption and abuse, and because the knew that there were “saints among us,” that there were ordinary everyday people who were saints, as well.

We call this process “sanctification,” and we understand it as an ongoing process, not an election to high office.  It’s a process by which some people grow more and more loving through the course of their lives, they grow closer and closer to God, they grow closer and closer to their neighbor, they fashion their lives after the example of Jesus, they take on cross-shaped lives.

No matter what life throws at them, they grow in grace, they reach out with love, they don’t hold grudges, they don’t presume themselves to be superior.  Like a fine piece of silver, whether they are being polished to a fine lustre, or whether they are put through the fire and hammered on the anvil of life, they come out of the process more loving, more holy. They are being refined.

*****
I want to lift up just two names, from among the dozens we will be honoring today.  Elisabeth Cogdill died this year, and she spent the last years of her life dedicated to a singular purpose, to see that the St. John’s Bible – majestic, illustrated manuscripts of the Holy Scriptures – would make a return visit here to First Church.  When I started here three and a half years ago, Elisabeth was walking with a limp, then she was walking with a cane, then with a walker, and toward the end she could not walk at all. But through it all, she was determined to see that the St. John’s Bible should return.  Elisabeth Cogdill spent the last years of her life dedicated to bringing a gift to you, this congregation.

I first met Houston Burnside, Sr. when I presided at the funeral of his first wife, Tricia, when I was the pastor of our church in La Mesa. And then, a little over a year ago, Houston and his wife Connie came to First Church and became an active part of this congregation.  I experienced from Houston here the same things I had experienced in La Mesa – an unwavering good cheer, a commitment to support me in my ministry, and a genuine concern for me, as both a pastor and a person. His concern came genuinely to Houston, because he had once been a pastor.  He cashed it in to become a professor at San Diego State.  He concluded his true calling was not to wear the fine clothes and preach from pulpits on Sunday mornings, but to sit in the pews.  And in the last year of his life he wrote a memoir, called “A Pew-Sitter’s Search for God.”

Elisabeth, Houston and the dozens of other names we will lift aloud this morning, remind us that we, too, are being fashioned – or at least we can be, if we will allow it – we are being refined. Life sometimes makes it difficult, but no matter what life brings, the faithful have ways of coming out on the other end shaped more and more and more like a cross.

*****
I think this is something intrinsic to our American character.  Our nation was founded on the principle of religious freedom, and its early life was much more diverse and multicultural than is commonly thought.  Nonetheless, it was rooted in a particular understanding of the Protestant tradition.  The founders of this nation understood themselves to be Protestants, if not in the dogmatic sense, in the pedestrian sense – they were “protesters.”

The Pilgrims, the Puritans, the other refugees from Civil War and monarchies in Europe, they left because they had found something to protest against.  They were clear about what they were opposed to, oftentimes much more clearly than they were clear about what they were for.  But they were opposed to something, thank you very much, and they determined that some things were worth fighting for. This American spirit is an oppositional spirit, and it has much to commend it.  It’s true, I think, for all who come to the United States – people from across the globe and across the ages intuit that this is a nation that celebrates that ordinary individuals have a right that cannot be denied to them. This right – the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness – belongs to all people, and we cherish it.  Among the ways we cherish it is in the right of casting the ballot, a practical and a symbolic declaration that we will not be subject, not to tyrants, or kings, or bosses or politicians of any kind.

Americans are protesters, and there is so much to commend this spirit. But I want to caution you that this spiritual inheritance of ours is a double-edged sword.  This American spirit can inspire an ethos of selfless devotion to cause, and we rightly celebrate this down through the ages, as we do when we celebrate our war dead, and when we honor our veterans, as we will do next week.  It can promote among us a certain kind of bravery and virtue and self-sacrifice that is worthy of celebration.

But this American spirit can also be entirely presumptive of divine sanction. It can encourage the demonization of enemies, it can be deeply racist, it can abet the dehumanization of people who are different from ourselves. It is embedded in the origins of our nation, which was built on the back of slave labor and the decimation of native peoples.

For those of us who are inheritors of this spirit, this double-edged sword must be handled carefully.  Our profound sense of purpose and destiny, imbued with the dimension of the divine, is a gift, and it makes us capable of extraordinary self-sacrifice for causes that are greater than ourselves, but it also renders us, all of us, uniquely vulnerable to the temptation of demonizing our every enemy, and turning our every fight into a holy war.

And so on this All Saints Sunday, in addition to the saints among us in this congregation, I want to lift up to you two people who I would dare name American saints in this time of great political distress in our nation.

The first I have long admired, and I trust many of you have, too. You will know the basic biography of Jimmy Carter. Raised on a peanut farm, served as a Lieutenant in the US Navy, then Governor of Georgia and then President of the United States.  He is now our longest-living ex-President, and some people say it as a joke that his “our greatest ex-President,” as a way of dismissing his time in office. But I have heard Jimmy Carter interviewed about those terrible, tumultuous days, in 1979 and 1980, when American hostages were being held in Iran, and our country was tearing itself apart.  Jimmy Carter, at the time of his re-election campaign, was being counseled by his advisors, that he should go to war with Iran. He was told by pollsters that this was by far the best course of action should he seek to be re-elected. The American people would rally around him, as they always rally around their Presidents in a time of war, and the surest path to re-election was to declare Iran an enemy in battle.

Jimmy  Carter resisted that temptation – he could not bring himself to do so, because he felt a higher calling, which was to protect the lives of the hostages.  And so he was elected out of office, and the hostages were released the day after his successor’s inauguration.

Jimmy Carter went through a dark season, in the aftermath of his political defeat.   He didn’t know what to make of himself, he has talked very openly about this. But he went on the establish the Carter Center, which is dedicated to reconciliation in times of international conflict.  And he dedicated himself to the organization Habitat for Humanity, and has been personally involved, in one way or another, in over 4000 house builds.  He has continued to teach his weekly Bible Study at his Baptist Church in Plains. 

Quite remarkably, did you catch it a few years ago when he was diagnosed with a cancer of the brain in 2015? He now appears to be in remission, but at the time the outcome was by no means clear.  I was so impressed by the matter-of-factness with which he greeted this diagnosis.  To one interviewer he said, “I am surprisingly at ease. I’ve led a very wonderful life, an exciting, adventurous ... existence. So I am surprisingly at ease, much more so than my wife … I’ll be prepared for anything that comes.”

Jimmy Carter is being refined, and I commend him to you.  Who knows how long he will live, but pay attention!  An American saint is doing the disciplined, soul-stirring work our forebears called “preparing to meet your maker." 

*****
The other national figure I will lift to you today in fact died this year.  And I trust that you are also familiar, in broad measure, with the biography of John McCain. A rebellious youth, then a naval aviator, some five and half years a prisoner of war in Vietnam, and he returned home with injuries so severe that he would never again be able to comb his own hair. Elected to the Senate in 1987 and died in office just a few months ago.

And at the time of his funeral, as people recounted the highs and lows of John McCain’s life, one episode stood out more than any other to me. It was McCain’s concession speech on the night in which he lost the presidential election to Barack Obama in 2008.

As he came out to greet the campaign workers and the large crowd who had dedicated themselves to his election, he said this:

“My friends, we have come to the end of a long journey. The American people have spoken, and they have spoken clearly …”

And at this point, the crowd erupted in BOOS, and McCain hushed them down.

“A little while ago, I had the honor of calling Sen. Barack Obama …”

Again the crowd began to BOO and again McCain hushed them down.

“… to congratulate him on being elected the next president of the country that we both love.

In a contest as long and difficult as this campaign has been, his success alone commands my respect for his ability and perseverance. But that he managed to do so by inspiring the hopes of so many millions of Americans, who had once wrongly believed that they had little at stake or little influence in the election of an American president, is something I deeply admire and commend him for achieving.

This is an historic election, and I recognize the special significance it has for African-Americans and for the special pride that must be theirs tonight …
Sen. Obama has achieved a great thing for himself and for his country. I applaud him for it, and offer my sincere sympathy that his beloved grandmother did not live to see this day — though our faith assures us she is at rest in the presence of her Creator and so very proud of the good man she helped raise.”

What a witness. What a testimony, of someone who fought the fight to which he believed he had been called, but who, when defeated, did not presume his to be a divine election.

*****
Elisabeth Cogdill, Houston Burnside, John McCain, Jimmy Carter, people like these are worthy of our emulation, because through the trials and challenges of their vocations, they have demonstrated humility, they have demonstrated patience, and they have humbled themselves in a way that is befitting our Christian tradition.

So I want to encourage you this day, this All Saints Day, to seek to become refined yourself, whatever life may give you. The Apostle Paul put it this way:

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things and the God of peace will be with you” (Philippians 4:8).

We come to the communion table surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, and if we come in a proper and penitential posture, we, too, will find, that we are being refined.

Amen.


"On Being Refined"
Preached at First United Methodist Church of San Diego

November 4, 2018
Mark 12:28-32

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