ALL THY NAMES: A Sermon by Dan Stern
P15B September 13, 2009
A reading from Exodus 3:13-15-
Moses said to God, “If the Israelites ask me to tell them what is the name of the God of their ancestors, What shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM.” This is my name forever, and this my title for all generations.”
A reading from the Gospel of Mark - 8:27-38
27Jesus and his disciples headed out for the villages around Caesarea Philippi. As they walked, he asked, "Who do the people say I am?"
28"Some say 'John the Baptizer,'" they said. "Others say 'Elijah.' Still others say 'one of the prophets.'"
29He then asked, "And you—who do YOU believe that I am?"
Peter gave the answer: "You are the Christ, the Messiah."
30-32Jesus warned them to keep it quiet, not to breathe a word of it to anyone. He then began explaining things to them: "It is necessary that the Human One proceed to an ordeal of suffering, be tried and found guilty by the elders, high priests, and religion scholars, be killed, and after three days rise up alive." He said this simply and clearly so they couldn't miss it.
32-33But Peter grabbed him in protest. Turning and seeing his disciples wavering, wondering what to believe, Jesus confronted Peter. "Peter, get out of my way! Satan, get lost! You have no idea how God works."
34He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38"If any of you are embarrassed or ashamed of me and the way I'm leading you when you get around your fickle and unfocused friends, know that you'll be an even greater embarrassment to the Human One when he arrives in all the splendor of God… .”
May, all the words of our mouths, all the meditations of our hearts, all the names that we call out or leave unspoken… Be acceptable in your sight, O Lord our Strength & our Redeemer.
I know a UCC pastor who tells of one of his congregation's most faithful, long-standing members having said that she was sick and tired of being a Christian butt. Linda had been a member and regular attendee for over 30 years. The Christian faith always 'made sense' to her; she drew plenty of wonder and joy from her faith. She continues to this day to participate actively in all aspects of church life. She’s even, of late, started to 'come out of the closet' about being a Christian, becoming more willing to share with others about her faith. Previously she had been content to consider her religious beliefs a private matter. Of late, Linda would convey to her work colleagues something that moved her during worship nearly as often as she would mention a fascinating new film she'd seen. It wasn’t that she felt such a need to convert anybody. When she mentions a movie, she isn't trying to sell movie tickets either. In both cases, she's just sharing her excitement about life. So why in the world, would she tell her pastor that she's getting sick and tired of being a Christian butt?
When asked what she meant, Linda replied without hesitating. "I mean I'm tired of having always to qualify the word 'Christian'. When I tell people I go to church. I may as well say I'm radioactive. They get a surprised expression on their face and start looking for an escape route. So I find myself throwing in more and more 'buts' all the time: "Yes, I'm a Christian, but… ."
BUT... I DON'T hate homosexuals..."; "I'm a Christian, BUT... I believe in equal rights for women..."; "I'm a Christian, BUT... I care about the poor!"; "I'm a Christian, BUT... I'm an environmentalist; I'm a Christian, BUT... I don't think people who believe differently from me will fry in hell for eternity...".
I wish I could just say I'm a Christian too, and leave it at that. I wish that word stood for something clear and good that I could unequivocally endorse.
"The label 'Christian' should stand for people of extravagant grace and generosity; people of unusual courage and compassion, who stand for justice and are known for being far more loving than the norm; far more forgiving. It shouldn’t mean being a butthead."
Unfortunately in the past quarter century or so, moderate to left-leaning Christian groups and their leaders have been strategically discredited, and much of the public’s perception of Christianity has become, that it is narrow, mean-spirited, politically-charged, and ideologically far to the right. Pat Robinson once said: " You say you're supposed to be nice to the Episcopalians and the Presbyterians and the Methodists, and this, that, and the other thing. Nonsense. I don't have to be nice to the spirit of the Antichrist." The same kinds of carte blanch demonizing, dismissiveness and disrespect is now also rampant in other societal settings: Congressman, a CONGRESSman, no less, shouting out in chamber to our duely-elected US President that he’s a liar! And yet, Christian Right leaders like James Dobson get put on major television news programs forty times in a single year, while leaders of the more-moderate Lutherans, Methodists, and Episcopalians don’t get the opportunity to appear even once. Let alone think of allowing those awful Uk-ers/UCCers to air their controversial ads about inclusivity!!
It’s understandable that we progressives, for the most part, haven’t gotten over the habit of being Christian b-u-t-s. But it’s even worse - many of us on the Christian moderate to left side of things have remained silent, or not at all articulate about our convictions, or perhaps even worse: have shown scant interest in maintaining a vital connection with our own faith communities and language and heritage. So many of us have surrendered the Bible to the very ones who use it so inappropriately the absence of well-articulated progressive Christianity, the majority continue to believe that Jesus would approve of some of the awful, hateful things that get said the loudest in his name.
During the Church Retreat at Pilgrim Firs last weekend, I told folks about a dream I had recently. In my dream, we Broadview folk were busy setting up things for our latest social event and fundraiser. We were doing so out on the edge of this vast desert, and out IN said desert if you looked closely, you could see bunches of people in tents everywhere – hundreds and hundreds – who seemed to be stoically waiting for something important to happen, something, maybe, that God could provide them through us. But in my dream, it was as if we who ARE the church were too busy to notice them, the very people who needed us most!
Not all the news is discouraging, of course. Progressive Christians are beginning to let their light shine more and more. Progressive Christians are increasingly walking fully - unabashedly and unashamedly - in the Path of Jesus without denying the legitimacy of other paths that God may provide for humanity." Note the dual emphasis - walk FULLY, unapologetically in the path of Jesus - AND don’t deny the legitimacy of other spiritual paths walk our talk, talk our walk, keep listening to others.
I wanted to tell you all something else about last weekend’s All-Church Retreat at Camp Pilgrim Firs: we had an excellent softball game going for a couple hours - Marc Hoffman and John Witmer got it organized for us. It ended up attracting all guys, all testosterone, no women - make of that what you will – But men and boys from all three present UCC churches, ranging in age from 7 to 70, showed up to play. We had a really good eight-year-old pitcher on our side. I hadn’t played softball in decades, and I kinda got into it, though my whole body - especially my quads- paid for it for days afterward. Even as I nursed my sore muscles, happy memories kept coming back of the 4th of July church picnic potlucks at Lost Lake that my family always drove our 1955 green Chevy to up into the Okanogan highlands when I was a child - we always had a big after-the-potluck ball game, the men against the boys, or, as we said in those days, the ‘marrieds’ against the ‘singles’. I thought too of other boyhood memories, including the less-organized, more freely imaginative play that my brother and I engaged in out in the dirt of the apple orchard, playing with little plastic cowboys and tractors and dinosaurs. Especially dinosaurs! They’re way cool don’t you know. My favorite – as mentioned to the kids - the Stegosaurus. Back plates and scales way cool. But what puts him over the top for me is definitely that alleged second brain. Weird! But waaaaay cool!
As I grew older though, I realized that indeed many of us behave as if we had two, and that it’s not a very helpful thing.
Some feminists have long claimed that we men “think” with a certain part of our anatomy other than our brain. Well… . Then there’s the New Testament book of James, which makes a similar claim in reference to the tongue. The tongue also, seems to have a ‘brain’ of its own. People blurt out the most unkind and outrageous things, not really thinking about what we’re doing. Sometimes our words can be as sharp as the spikes on a stegosaurus’s tail. Words can hurt or heal, divide or unite.
So please hear this reading from the Book of James: “A word or two out of your mouth may seem of no account, but it can accomplish nearly anything - or destroy it! You can tame a tiger, but you can’t tame your tongue. The tongue runs wild, a wanton killer. With our tongues we bless God; with the same tongues, we curse the very men and women made in God’s own image. Curses and blessings out of the same mouth. Brothers and sisters, this can’t go on! Apple trees don’t bear strawberries, do they? And you’re not going to dip into a polluted mud hole, and get a cup of clear, cool water, are you?”
Some say talk is cheap. Others say words are dangerous. Right they both are - at times. But not ALL talk is cheap.
What we say matters. What we say about ourselves, what we say about others, what we say about our church, what we say about God and about Jesus and about politics and about everything. It matters what we say. It matters where and how and when.
Well-thought-out words can be instructive and inspirational. Quality conversation also unites us, binds us together, teaches us how to express ourselves. Our early Sunday morning discussion group understands this: so does our Thursday afternoon Bible Study group. I participate in an average of four or five small-group discussion groups every week as part of my ministry. I like well-led and facilitated small groups, because in small groups, more of us fully participate in the give and take dance of talking and of listening. Conversation is indeed an art. It has to be learned, it has to continue to be practiced. Though we need to use words with care, we shouldn’t be afraid to use words to say who we are, and in whom we believe. Who do we say that God is? Who do we say that Jesus is? Who do we say that we are in relation to these? We have to say, to name…with words as over tools, name who we are and in whom we believe.
For centuries when a person join the church in the faith tradition of my ancestors, you get dunked three times - it’s called “baptism by trine immersion”. You get fully immersed under deep water, one dunk in the name of each of the 3 persons of . . . the Holy Trinity. Well My Church of the Brethren minister grandfather, George Stern was quite a tall man, and apparently his very first candidate for baptism was quite a short woman. She had short legs and - how can I put this delicately? - a rather ample mid-section. And since the water level was rather deep for her, my grandfather placed a little stone stool at the bottom of the baptismal pool for her to stand on. But with the water level still up to about here on her, my long-legged, still-inexperienced minister ancestor assertively took hold of her head with both hands and tried to push her upper body under the water in the name of the father. But her differently-positioned center of gravity caused her to lose her footing and she came up gasping for air and paddling around in the water in search of a stable place for her feet. Meanwhile, undeterred, my grandfather immersed her head a 2nd time, in the name of the son. Again, she came up gasping, her short legs still kicking around frantically for some secure landing place. But having gone this far, my grandfather did not feel it appropriate to stop, so he dunked her the third and last time, in the name of the Holy Spirit. Once more, after flailing about some more, she finally got her footing, she was prayed over, and then: the first words that came from her mouth said to the woman assisting her in the side room was this, "Thank God there's only a Holy Trinity! If there was a Holy Quartet, I'd have died drowning!"
Those we invite to church may not always respond in exactly the way we’d hope. Still: Who are we? And in whose name do we live and move and have our being? Moses, as the story gets told in Exodus, claims he’s asking God a similar question God, the people want to know: What’s your name? In other words, don’t be so distant and mysterious. Let us get a bit of a handle on you!” Of course assigning names can kinda put us in control. We give names to our pets in part to get them to do our bidding: name a dog Fido, tell him to go fetch. We want God to come when we call too. But we’re not in control. The 3rd Commandment: “Thou shalt not take the NAME of the Lord your God in vain,” doesn’t just mean not to cuss when you hit your thumb with a hammer. The 3rd Commandment means, “Don’t use the divine name for manipulative purposes”. When we proclaim God’s name too casually we cheapen the mystery and glory. When we try to proclaim God’s name too authoritatively, we only swell up our own egos. We’re not supposed to be in control! Far MORE appropriate that God name, define, and limit us. Thus God cryptically replies to Moses’ question: “I am who I am.”