Eternal and Glorious Plans

A Sermon for 7 Pascha RCL – A (6-5-2011)

Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts:              Acts 1:6-14; Psalm 68:1-10, 32-35; 1 Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11; John 17:1-11

Title:               Eternal and Glorious Plans

Have any of you ever been on a visit, either as tourists or as pilgrims, to the Holy Land? To Palestine and Israel and Jordan?

Well, neither have I! Perhaps one day I will get there, but that certainly does not seem likely anytime in the near future!

It is said that shepherds in that part of the world behave much differently than they do in the western countries, like they would here in the US. Even today, it is said that Middle-Eastern shepherds tend to develop a close relationship with their flock. Do you remember when the Lord called himself the Good Shepherd who knows each of his sheep by name? He was referring to this type of relationship between the shepherd and the sheep.  This would have been common knowledge to his original listeners, but it is difficult for us here in this time and place to understand.

Chua Wee Hian, the founding pastor of a Korean church in London, tells the story of a group of tourists visiting the Holy Land and touring the countryside by bus. Their guide was a local Arab man. As they drove through hillsides with flocks of sheep grazing on them, he explained to the people the reality that we were just considering; that is, how Middle Eastern shepherds are very close to their sheep. So close, in fact, that these shepherds nearly always lead their sheep. They do not drive them from behind with dogs, as is common in the West.

Middle Eastern shepherds lead their sheep by going in front of them, by calling to them, perhaps by using a pipe or a whistle to call them. The sheep know their shepherd and so they trust him and they follow him. It’s a very different relationship than what we might expect here, and it helps us to understand what the Bible means when it speaks of the Lord as our shepherd who leads us beside still waters.

Well, on this tourist bus, the Arab guide was explaining all of this when a number of the tourists noticed a man on one of the hillsides driving a small flock of sheep down a hill with a large and menacing stick! So the people started to mumble, “Look at that! Maybe he is wrong! Does this fellow really know what he is talking about?”

When the guide saw what the people had noticed, he immediately stopped the bus and ran off across the fields to intercept this man who appeared to be a rather scary kind of shepherd after all.

A few minutes later, the guide returned to the bus, his face beaming with relief. And he announced, “I have just spoken to that man. Ladies and gentlemen, he is not the shepherd. He is, in fact, the butcher!” (See The Contemporary Christian by John R.W. Stott, p. 284.)

You see, the shepherd acts very differently than the butcher, doesn’t he? Here in this amazing 17^th Chapter of the Fourth Gospel, we are given a glimpse into the shepherd heart of Jesus. Here, the Gospel opens up a window onto the secret prayer communication between the Son of God and the Father. We are allowed to eavesdrop into this intensely personal prayer.

Here, our Lord is about to face his betrayal and passion. Just before this occurs, he stops to pray once more, and to intercede on behalf of his rag-tag group of followers who have gathered around him.

Most of what we hear in this high-priestly prayer is Christological: that is, it carefully explains the relationship between Christ and the Father.

But throughout this dialogue, his love and care and concern for his sheep continuously breaks through. And over and over again, Jesus prays: “Holy Father, protect them.”

 We who know and trust in Jesus Christ as our Savior and our Lord, who have experienced his grace in our lives in profound ways – we believe in his protecting presence as our Good Shepherd.

And yet, it does not always feel this way, does it? You and I continue to experience all types of pain and suffering in this life, even when we live as a sheep of Christ’s own redeeming.

How are we to make sense of all this pain which seems so senseless and meaningless?

Let me suggest that in all of these things, when the suffering and death and pain which we see feels so pointless, what matters is the perspective which we take.

Remember this: what you and I see is but a tiny, small view upon the whole panoramic landscape of God’s activity in the world.

Cabin under construction

Let me explain this matter of our perspective in this way. When our family first bought our little cabin way up in the woods of New Hampshire, it was a small A-frame built in the 1970’s as a hunting camp. A family had been living there before us, so it was – technically - livable as it was (though I don't know how anyone could have lived there!). But our family had a different vision for what that place could become. So, right away, even the very day that we closed the sale, we began to tear it apart. Over the course of the next 3 years, we literally tore that place apart. There were huge piles of debris and garbage all around it, sometimes left there for months until I had time to return and continue the project. We couldn’t really get a dumpster up to the cabin. So I made piles of the debris, some to burn in a big bonfire and some to haul away in my truck.

Now, to anyone who passed by and gazed in over the course of those years, all of the chaos of that place must have appeared as completely senseless and pointless. I’m sure the few neighbors around there thought we were crazy.

BUT - what they could not see is that we had a plan: a long-term plan to completely renovate that place and to transform it. The process of getting there was going to be messy and painful and costly, but in the end, all of that was necessary to complete the transformation.

This is a good way for us to think about the trials and sufferings in life that we see and experience.

We see messy and painful things, we experience chaotic, sudden tragedies, and these things appear so meaningless, unjust and capricious. But the problem is that we can only see just a tiny sliver, a momentary glimpse of what is happening in the universe. We cannot see the long-term plan that is in place to renovate and transform humanity.

Somehow, in some way which is beyond our understanding, we can trust that God will use all things for good for those who love God and are called according to God’s purpose. We can embrace each experience of our life as training, as preparation, for the task that is before us. We do not know what God has in store.

Consider this: in each person’s life, there are a few moments when a decision will be made, or an action taken, that can change the course of history for their family, or their community, or their nation. Each experience of our lives is preparing us, so that when those critical moments arrive, we are prepared to decide rightly and to act with generous love and compassion.

If we can welcome each experience in this way – whether they be good things or painful things, then we will be able to be trained by Christ and prepared for what lies ahead.

Listen to this contemporary translation of our reading today from the 1^st Letter of St. Peter. These verses are taken from The Message (by Eugene Peterson):

“Friends, when life gets really difficult, don’t jump to the conclusion that God isn’t on the job.” And the end of this passage is translated here in this way: “So keep a firm grip on your faith. The suffering won’t last forever. It won’t be long before this generous God who has great plans for us in Christ – eternal and glorious plans they are! – will have you put together and on your feet for good. [God] gets the last word.”    

Jesus has prayed, and continues to intercede, for the protection of his people. God has eternal and glorious plans for us. Long-term plans which we cannot see or understand. But we can trust that the renovation is in process, that the transformation is underway, even if it appears messy to us.

The Good Shepherd has gone before us and he leads us toward good things. Let us never forget that God always gets the last word. Amen.

SOUL FREEDOM: Where do we go from here?

Soul Freedom: Religious Liberty, the Church and Islam

The proposed Park51 project in lower Manhattan has created a firestorm of discussion concerning the perceived legitimacy of Islam, the tortured history of relations between Western civilization and the Muslim world, and the need for tolerance between people of different faiths.

In any complex discussion such as this, it is often difficult for people to recognize the cultural lens which colors their own perspective by default. For the average American, Islamophobia is a decisive part of that inherited cultural lens, as rightly explained by Dr. Firestone in his RD essay on August 23, 2010 (Religion Dispatches- The Ground Zero-Sum Game). Tinted by this colored worldview, we are accustomed to viewing Islam and Muslims (and all Arabs, by association) as dangerous to our way of life and backwards in regard to the forward progress of society. This is extremely unfortunate, though it is understandable, given our nation’s interactions over the last three decades with high-profile terrorists who have claimed Islam as justification for their murderous actions. But guilt by association is never an appropriate way to judge individuals, let alone an entire multi-faceted civilization. Not all Muslims are the same. Cold-hearted criminals must be separated from the great majority of Muslims who strive only to live in peace, to worship God faithfully, and to provide a good future for their children.

But another aspect of our inherited American cultural lens which is so often assumed is the obvious necessity of religious freedom within a prosperous and healthy society. It is important and necessary if we are to have a truly informed public debate that we acknowledge this aspect of our worldview. It is a point of view that is uniquely American in history and peculiarly Christian in origin. If we miss this point, then our debate on religious tolerance and diversity will be incomplete at best, and perhaps even misguided.

Within the three great Abrahamic faith traditions, the Christian faith is the only one that assumes the clear distinction between political power and religious leadership. In its earliest history after the Day of Pentecost, the nascent churches stood in noticeable opposition to the Roman and Jewish authorities. None of the apostles, nor any among the first few generations of their successors, actively sought after positions of political power or control. The earliest Christian theological writings are unanimous in calling for respectful and prayerful support for those in power, but this call is always given obliquely and always from the perspective of those on the periphery of society. If one undertakes a survey of all early Christian writings (including the New Testament), it is clear that these early disciples of Christ thought very little (if at all) about acquiring power and control within society. On the contrary, their focus lay squarely on the demanding task of creating a compelling alternative society to exist alongside of, and in tension with, the dominant milieu of their time. In reality, the only social power of these early Christian communities was the power of persuasion, and it seems in general that these Christians were content with that. After all, it was their Teacher himself, Jesus of Nazareth, who was unambiguous in his disregard for political power. “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over…But as it is, my kingdom is not from here” (John 18:36b).

In contrast, the Jewish tradition presents a radically different relationship between religious authorities and political power. For the sake of brevity, we need only consider the great Davidic dynasty which represents the commonly accepted “golden-era” of Jewish history. King David and his son Solomon served as multi-tasking leaders of Hebrew society. They were the commanders-in-chief of the armies, absolute monarchs over the territory they controlled, the supreme judge over all disputes among citizens, as well as the final arbiters in all matters concerning the religious practices of the nation. The kings of the Davidic dynasty also had clear imperialistic impulses and they sought to conquer neighboring kingdoms whenever the opportunity presented itself. They did all of this in the name of the LORD their God, the One who brought them out of Egypt and who allowed for no compromise in matters of national religious practice. When King Solomon began to allow other religious cults within his realm, the prophets of God were quick to announce the impending demise of his family dynasty. “Then the Lord was angry with Solomon, because his heart had turned away from the LORD, the God of Israel, who…had commanded him concerning his matter, that he should not follow other gods” (1 Kings 11:9-10). In short, the dominant ideal scenario envisioned by the Judaic tradition is one where political power, military might and religious leadership are combined and held together by strict allegiance to the covenant instituted by Moses.

The Islamic tradition owes much to the history of Judaism in this regard. In general, the Prophet Muhammed continued the heritage of combined political and religious power that was ubiquitous within Near Eastern societies. Within his nascent community, he served in much the same role as the Davidic kings: military general, absolute monarchical leader, and supreme judge. One major difference is that, for his followers, Muhammed was also the only source of revealed truth from God. However, the scope of his influence was limited during his lifetime, so it is the period of the patriarchal Caliphs immediately after the Prophet’s death that most often serves as the glorious idyllic period of Islamic history. These four great Caliphs continued the tradition of centralized civil and religious authority throughout the rapidly expanding Islamic empire.

All three of these Abrahamic faiths has been shaped and molded by varying historic circumstances in the ensuing centuries, often in surprising ways. However, they can never escape the foundational influence of their own respective “golden eras”. There can be no denying that the Christian churches, the Jewish people, and Muslim peoples are all inherently conservative in this regard: in their traditions, they all preserve an idyllic period in their past which serves as the definitive point of reference for contemporary decision-making. The exact periods of the past which serve in this capacity may vary somewhat between different sects (i.e., the Roman Catholic Church vis-à-vis Anabaptist churches, Reformed synagogues vis-à-vis Hasidic rabbis, Sufi communities vis-à-vis Shi’ite communities), but this process is remarkably uniform among the Abrahamic faiths as a general rule.

For instance, it would be a great over-simplification to evaluate the struggles between the new nation of Israel and the Palestinian peoples through the prism of the brief historical overview presented above. However, one can discern, in the stated goals and aspirations of those directly involved in this conflict, clear links to the amalgamation of political, military and religious power that constitutes the ideal vision of society for both the Judaic and Islamic traditions. Both Jewish and Palestinian militants in this struggle have been clear in expressing their desire for the creation of nation states which continue this combination of military and political power with their own religious identity. In contrast, Christian communities that exist in both Israel and in Palestine have largely remained apart from this conflict. In this way, one can recognize a reluctance to pursue political power among these churches that stems directly from their foundational self-identity as seen in the apostolic period.

Of course, objections will be raised to this historical overview, particularly concerning the abuse of political and military power over the centuries by the Christian churches. It is true that, after the Edict of Milan in 313 issued by Constantine and Licinius, Christian communities wielded direct civil power throughout Europe and the Mediterranean region for nearly 1500 years, often with disastrous results. But it is also true that, throughout this period, varying Christian voices were continually raised in protest to this obvious unfaithfulness to the foundational period of the church’s life. In fact, it can be argued that just as much of the energy behind the Reformation in the 16th and 17th centuries was a result of this unease with the abuse of civil power by the leaders of the church in Rome as it was a result of divergent theological understandings.

This now brings our extremely brief overview of religious history around full circle back to where we started. The very notion of the separation of church and state (and thus, religious tolerance and diversity) which we Americans assume as a foundational aspect of society is in fact a direct and immediate fruit of the Reformation. One of the primary catch-phrases of the Reformation was “ad fontes”, that is “back to the sources”. Many new Protestant communities did exactly this by attempting to re-create the experience of the early apostolic churches. In the process, they adopted the same attitude and approach toward civil authority as can be seen among these earliest Christians. In the Baptist churches, they began to speak boldly of the liberty of conscience as a necessary condition for any healthy society. Today, many will refer to this as the principle of soul freedom, and it is this principle which underlies our First Amendment rights to the “free exercise” of religion.

So let us all remember, as we continue to discuss the place of Islam within American society, and the need for religious tolerance, that what we are discussing is a peculiarly Christian ideal. We would be foolish to assume that those who have inherited a different cultural worldview will share this appreciation for religious diversity. Perhaps they will. But in order to have a fully informed debate in this regard, it is only fair that we ask our Muslim neighbors to explain their understanding of soul freedom and how this principle is informed by their faith traditions. A full understanding of history demands that we do so.