Fabre Senior Sermon
Mar 25, 2009
Peter Fabre
Jeremiah 18:1-11
John 6:27-40
"This is indeed the will of my Father, that all who see the Son and believe in him may have eternal life; and I will raise them up on the last day."
[Or suitable invocation such as Psalm 19:14 - Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.]
[Greeting, opening comments, extemporaneous reflection on preaching in Christ Chapel - ...but the Word of God itself is compelling and demands to be shared.]
Story of The Rope
The story tells about a mountain climber, who wanted to climb the highest mountain. He began his adventure after many years of preparation, but since he wanted the glory just for himself, he decided to climb the mountain alone.
The night felt heavy in the heights of the mountain, and the man could not see anything. All was pitch black. Zero visibility, and the moon and the stars were covered by the clouds.
As he was climbing, only a few feet away from the top of the mountain, he slipped and fell into the air, falling at a great speed. The climber could only see black shapes as he went down, and felt the terrible sensation of being pulled by gravity. He kept falling...and in those moments of great fear, all the good and bad episodes of his life flashed before his eyes.
He was thinking now about how near he was to death, when all of a sudden he felt the rope tied to his waist pull him very hard.
His body was hanging in the air. Only the rope was holding him, and in that moment of stillness, he had no other choice but to scream: HELP ME GOD!!
Suddenly, a deep voice coming from the sky answered:
"What do you want me to do?"
SAVE ME GOD!!
"Do you really think I can save you?"
Of course I believe You can.
"THEN CUT THE ROPE TIED TO YOUR WAIST..."
There was a moment of silence; and the man decided to hold on to the rope with all his strength.
The rescue team tells, that the next day a climber was found dead and frozen his body hanging from a rope. His hands holding tightly to it...
ONLY 6 FEET AWAY FROM THE GROUND!
And you? How attached are you to your rope? Will you let go? ...can you let go?
Don't ever doubt the things from God. Never say that He has forgotten or abandoned you. Don't ever think that God does not take care of you. Remember that She is always holding you with Her right hand.
Comments on today's scripture readings:
I never cease to be amazed at the synergy we see between the lectionary readings for any given day. Sometimes you really have to dig for it, but it is always there. Today's readings are no exception. We have been working our way through the prophet Jeremiah and the Gospel according to John in the daily office since the second week of Lent. In each a story unfolds, and one complements the other.
Jeremiah tells us a great deal about who we, the children of Israel, are; and John tells us so much about who Jesus is and the kind of relationship it is possible for us to have with and through him. Jeremiah's words are more often than not harsh and full of judgment, yet they are imbued with a glimmer of promise. Israel doesn't get it, the people have strayed and forgotten the covenant, and yet there is the promise of redemption and restoration, if only for a small remnant.
In John's Gospel, we become more intimately acquainted with the Son of Man, not so much as a compassionate and approachable friend, which is certainly not the way John portrays Jesus, but as the one who instills our faith in the presence of God's gifts in the here and now. There is power and promise in the I AM statements of Jesus in John.
Today's reading is part of that wonderful progression in which we hear of Jesus first as giving bread, then as being the bread, and ultimately inviting us to eat his flesh in the promise of eternal life. ...From the material and mundane to the transcendent and ethereal. When I look at our readings from Jeremiah and from John, I see in John the fulfillment of the promise held out in Jeremiah.
I tend to relate scripture to words I hear in song and to the images that are evoked. I cannot read today's passage from Jeremiah without recalling John Denver's song "The Potter's Wheel" and the hymn that begins with the words "Lord, You are the Potter and I am the clay. Mold me and make me, have Thine own way".
Jeremiah's image of a lump of clay being fashioned into a vessel is marvelous. The vessel that was spoiled is reworked into another more suitable vessel - that speaks of redemption, transformation, and restoration.
The clay must be yielding and malleable, yet hold together sufficiently to be shaped and formed, much as we, the followers of Christ in this place, must be willing to be reshaped and transformed into vessels capable of carrying the Word of God into a broken world.
This is not an easy process for either the potter or the clay! Have you ever watched a potter make even a simple vessel - a jar or bowl? The clay is thrown against the spinning wheel - it all starts with a forceful and violent act. If it is not just right, the clay is cut from the wheel with a wire or a knife, then kneaded and thrown against the spinning wheel once again. Once it is securely on the wheel, it takes external pressure on the outside and internal pressure on the inside, both from the potter's hands, to bring the clay up into the desired shape.
As John Denver sang:
Take a little clay
Put it on a wheel
Get a little hint
How God must feel
Give a little turn
Listen to a spin
Make it into the shape
You want it in
The wrong proportion of pressures won't make the shape that's intended. We too, as followers of Christ, need to do both the internal and the external work that will enable us to be shaped in God's hands into the creation we are meant to be.
The question then becomes: are we willing to be molded, shaped, and formed into something different than we were when we first arrived here? Are we willing to let go of the rope to take on new life? The question is not all that different than the one Nazir posed in his sermon here two weeks ago: "Do you want to be healed?"
The answer can come only from the heart through introspection and deep reflection - precisely what we are called to do in Lent.
When I read today's passage from the Gospel according to John, I am immediately reminded of Hymn 335, I am the Bread of Life. The words dance through my head as a prayer and as an affirmation of the promise of eternal life.
The passage goes well beyond the words of the hymn, however. It talks about both work and belief. Jesus admonishes the people to work not for the food that perishes - the things of this world - but for the food that endures for eternal life. This requires belief above and beyond that allowed by conventional wisdom - a leap of faith. It sounds so simple: "...this is indeed the will of my Father, that all who see the Son and believe in him may have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day."
For us today who are so accustomed to proofs and demonstrations, to trust only that which we see with our eyes or can touch or somehow measure, this kind of faith is difficult. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could simply place our lives confidently in God's hands, like clay in the potter's hands?
And yet, we hesitate - there are so many barriers in our world to this kind of faith - the kind of faith that Jesus asks of us. It would take transformation, conversion, a radical change of heart for us to be willing to let go of the rope by which we hang on to our old ways.
Perhaps this is what this season of Lent is all about: A time of reflection on the wonders of God's love, and a time of looking inward into our own hearts to see what we value and where we place our trust.
It is an opportunity to dwell on something other than those things our world tells us are so important:
Money,
fame,
success,
power,
and the possession of material things.
These things have their place, but not to the exclusion of the things of God. Lent is an opportunity to give up some of the baggage we carry around with us, and think on the things of God. It is a call to let go of the rope.
We often talk about giving up things we like during Lent - as a form of self-sacrifice that somehow seems "holy". It is certainly not a bad thing to give up some things that give us pleasure but are not all that good for us: candy, chocolate, rich food - maybe even an occasional Lone Star beer - but if that is all we do, we are missing the point.
I encourage you to prayerfully consider some of the other things that you carry with you every day that can do you harm and impede your ability to feel God's presence in your life. Wouldn't it be good to give some of these up, not just for Lent, but from here on out? Perhaps there are some attitudes that need fine-tuning, some behaviors that you would like to change.
Dare to look in your heart with the same sense of confidence that God gave Jeremiah in proclaiming God's words, and you may be amazed at what happens! Can you let go of the rope?
May Christ help us to be true seekers of that grace that transforms lives, and allow ourselves to become a community of faith shaped and formed by a loving God on the potter’s wheel. Amen.
