One Who is More Powerful

Sermon for 3 Advent RCL, Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Zephaniah 3:14-20; Isaiah 12:2-6; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18

There’s an event every summer out in the hills of Pennsylvania. It’s called the Creation Festival, and it’s run by a pastor from Medford. It’s a multi-day, long weekend Christian festival with an incredible number of Christian bands, daily worship sessions and bible studies, and lots of time for plain old fellowship as thousands of people are all camped camp out on farm fields. It’s primarily a major evangelical event, but youth groups from all kinds of churches attend and participate from all over the East Coast and Midwest.

Tony Campolo, the Baptist professor from Eastern University, of whom I’ve spoken often, has been a part of this festival many times. He tells of a Sunday during a Creation Festival a few years back when he was invited to preach at a local Lutheran church, and a number of young people from the festival followed him there to join in worship and to hear Dr. Campolo preach. Well, it happened at the beginning of the service, that the Lutheran pastor called the people to worship in his typical way, and he began saying: “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord…” and, lo and behold, one of the young folks from the festival, sitting up in the balcony responded and called out, “All right!” and they all started clapping and hooting and hollering, and, well, making a joyful noise! It never even occurred to that poor, shocked pastor, or to his congregation, when he called on the people to make a joyful noise for God, that anyone present actually would!

We need sometimes, my friends, to stretch our comfort zones. Sometimes, God pushes us to make us uncomfortable. In fact, we have to stretch and push in order to grow. John the Baptizer, along with all of the prophets, is really good for this. Endowed with the prophetic office, the anointing of the Holy Spirit, John was right up in the face of his people with holy boldness.

I want you to seriously consider this morning how we would do well, at times, to follow the lead of the prophets. There are times when God is calling YOU to stand up with holy boldness and to speak the truth. Yes, you – each and every one of you. Sometimes there is no one else to whom you can pass the buck. There are times when you see evil and wrong right there in front of you, and you need to speak with holy boldness.

There is a right and a wrong in this world, and God calls us to stand up for the right. But what is even more amazing than this is that God gives us the power to do it! What else does it mean, my friends, to be baptized with the Holy Spirit and with fire? John the Baptizer, the prophet, speaks of the One coming after him. “I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” This is quite a claim. What do you think this means for you, in your life? Clearly, if we are a people who have been baptized with the Spirit and with fire, touched by this powerful Messiah and Lord, then there surely is no place at all for timidity among us.

2 Timothy 1:7: “For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline.” Or as The Message version puts it: “God does not want us to be shy with his gifts, but bold and loving and sensible.”

God desires that we act boldly with the gifts that we as the church have been given. But this begs the question: Do we truly understand the measure of the gifts that God has given to us? Do we grasp it? My friends, we have been given the gift of God’s self-revelation, the deposit of our faith, here in the Scriptures and in the apostolic teachings of the Church. This deposit is a treasure beyond comprehension. I will spend my entire life digging into this treasure-house and I will only ever be able barely to scratch the surface. And this is not even to mention all of the other gifts that we have inherited as baptized people in this place: the houses of worship for which we are caretakers, the peace and security in which we are free to worship in this country, the blessing of living in a free democracy, and the incredible wealth with which we all live.

We are a people blessed beyond measure, and yet (you know this to be true) far too often we act as though we are poor. We walk out into the streets as though we have nothing of great value to offer to the world around us, as if we act in church out of simple duty alone, carrying forward this tradition because it is nice and it makes us feel good inside.

When we strip away all of the externals, the stark reality is that what we do here together in this place is a matter of life and death. We carry, we sing about, we speak of, we touch holy things. The words we speak in the liturgy are ancient, coming directly from the days of the apostles, those first ones who were touched by the fire of Christ, baptized in the Holy Spirit coming down upon them in tongues of flame.

On a personal level, this connection to the apostles is of great importance. The reason I left the Baptist tradition, in which I was first ordained, in order to return to the Episcopal Church, who had baptized and confirmed me, is because I am convinced of the power of the apostolic tradition. To be an “Episcopal” church means to be centered upon the office of the bishop, and our bishop stands in a direct line from the apostles, from Peter and Paul and Andrew and John. Our worship was not recently created in California. We do not sing songs that some new Christian in Nashville just wrote. Our ship travels in the apostolic river, and there is tremendous power and grace and blessing in these waters. I believe in my heart that the world needs these gifts, and our neighbors long for these gifts, even if they cannot yet express it.

And how then do we act? Do we hide this light under a bushel? Are we afraid to speak the truth in love? God calls us not to be shy with these gifts, but to be bold and loving and sensible. As Paul stated hear in the Epistle for this Sunday with such sublime clarity, “The Lord is near.” And so what flows out of this? What transpires when we recognize that the Lord is near, surrounding us at all times? Therefore…”do not worry about anything.” Christ empowers you to speak with boldness and so without fear or anxiety.

Now, please understand that I recognize this is not easy. We will all go home and have to figure out what to eat for dinner, and how to pay the mortgage, and make a list of what remaining presents we need to buy for Christmas, and think about how to keep the kids from arguing so much. And I recognize that the Church is in a confusing and complex time right now which can make us uncertain about what to say to others about the Church. I understand all of this. I understand the real world, I really do.

But we need to be careful not to use these things as an excuse. We have inherited an awesome treasure which is meant to be shared with others. Life is busy and complex and confusing, but we have a responsibility and we have made a commitment. And even in these busy lives that we lead today, this much remains true: each one of us does what we want in life. Really, search your heart, reflect on your life and you will know it is true. If you look carefully, you will see that we do in fact what we want with the time that is given to us.

Once again, the apostolic wisdom of the Church speaks directly to our need to be energized for action. The Collect for today speaks truth to us: “Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us.” This is exactly what we need: to be ignited with fire by the Holy Spirit, so that worry and fear are banished from our hearts, and nothing but rejoicing and peace and boldness and confidence remain.

So may it be always among us who are so blessed by Christ to find new life in this great tradition of truth and beauty and power. Amen.

Holy Boldness

Sermon for Proper 23 B (RCL), offered by Nathan Ferrell at HS, Bellmawr & St. Luke’s, Westville

Texts: Job 23:1-9,16-17; Psalm 22; Hebrews 4:12-16; Mark 10:17-31

“Let us, therefore, approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16).

My dear friends in Christ: God is calling us to live lives of holy boldness. God desires to bless our lives with grace – grace which precedes and which follows us. Grace that will transform us so that our lives naturally overflow with good works: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Galatians 5:22-23).

Boldness for the sake of the gospel is not something for which we Episcopalians are quite well-known. Beauty in liturgy, prudence and balance and order perhaps. We are well-known for these qualities, perhaps, but not for boldness. And I understand. The Christian life is a marathon rather than a sprint, and we need a steady, healthy diet of continual grace to sustain us over the long haul. Boldness seems more like a Red Bull: a quick jolt of energy which usually does not last for very long.

Someone once sent an anonymous letter to their local newspaper complaining about the lack of energy he received from church. “I’ve gone to church for 35 years,” he wrote, “and have heard something like three thousand sermons. But for the life of me, I can’t remember a single one of them. So I’ve concluded that I’m wasting my time, as are the preachers for even bothering to deliver sermons at all.”

This letter began a real controversy back-and-forth on the op-ed page of the paper. It continued for a few weeks until another letter came in which settled the matter. That letter stated: “I’ve been married for 35 years. In that time my wife has cooked some thirty-two thousand meals for us. But for the life of me, I can hardly remember a single one of them. I do know, however, that they all nourished me and gave me the strength I needed to do my work each day. If it weren’t for all of those meals, then I would be dead today!”

The grace that God gives to us is like those 32,000 meals. It’s hard to be excited about a steady diet of healthy food, until we have a chance to look back and see how, in each time of need, God’s grace has been there for us, reliable and constant. Because of our experience of the faithfulness of God, it is right for us to step out with boldness and with love for the sake of the Gospel.

The Letter to the Hebrews states with great conviction that “the word that God speaks is living and active…it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” Right away, the Gospel of Mark gives us a clear and direct example of this very truth. Our Lord meets the rich, young ruler along the road. An aristocratic, young Jewish man who seemed intent upon keeping the law, following the commandments, and yet who – it seems – was afraid of truly loving God.

“You lack one thing.”

Do you know the kind of reckless abandon that overcomes the one who falls suddenly in love? Can you remember it, perhaps, from some point in your own life? When you would drive a thousand miles or stay up all night every night or spend every last dime just to be with your love, to woo your love?

Early in the 20th century, William Malcolm MacGregor, a great Scottish preacher and professor, spoke about the rich young ruler in one of his sermons. I love these words! They are one of my favorite quotes. I have shared them with you before, but here they are again once more, quite apropos to our meditation here today:

“Jesus did love a man who was able, sometimes, to be reckless. He did not care for the rulers as a class, but when one of them forgot his dignity and ran after a peasant teacher and fell on the road at His feet, we read that ‘Jesus, seeing him, loved him.’ He did not choose for His disciples discreet and futile persons, but a man whose temper was not always under control, and whose tongue was rough when has was roused, and another who might have been a saint, but his life got twisted and he betrayed his Lord. He saw a widow flinging into the treasury all that she had, which no doubt was a very foolish action, but it stirred his heart with gladness to see somebody venturing herself simply upon God. [Jesus] wanted life in men, energy, impulse; and in His Church He has often found nothing but a certain tame decorum, of which even He can make little.”
–William Malcolm MacGregor, great 20th century Scottish preacher and professor

Life, energy, impulse. God longs to see this kind of energetic action and reckless abandon in us. Yes, I know that this kind of enthusiasm is difficult to maintain over the long haul of life. But the grace of God continually refreshes our hearts, if we are open to it.

The Letter to the Hebrews calls us to continue on with this kind of boldness: “Let us hold fast to our confession.” Cling to it, the text says, don’t ever let go of our confession, our declaration of faith. It is, in fact, our declaration of independence.

2 Timothy 1:7 speaks to us clearly on the matter: “For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.”

I know it doesn’t feel this way to you now, but the truth is, my friends, that when we stand in just a few minutes and say the Nicene Creed together, it is a radical thing that we are doing. I know it feels old and stale and boring. But in fact, we are declaring our allegiance, our loyalty, our commitment to this God who speaks through the life and death of Jesus of Nazareth.

Remember: folks died for this creed. Saints watched while their houses were being burned down, while their families were tortured for this creed! It is a treasure, and it means something profound. It is, in fact, a call to bold action.

There’s a story about the Coast Guard unit stationed down at Cape May. One night a tropical storm came in from the Atlantic and a ship was breaking apart just off of the coast. The Coast Guard commander woke the men under his command and told them to get ready to go out to sea. They were going out to rescue the crew in danger. One of the young recruits shot back incredulously, “But, Captain! If we go out there, we may never come back!”

The Captain answered, with full command and conviction, “Son, you don’t have to come back. You have to go out.”

Being a Christian means that we bet our lives on the truth of God’s word; that we risk our convenience, our comforts, our security, and at times even our safety, in order to go out into the unknown, to launch out into the dark stormy waters where the need is greatest.

The rich young ruler had it all, or so he thought. But he was so comfortable, so safe, so tame. He was insulated from the needs of the world around him. Our Lord Jesus loved him and longed for him to be fully alive. And the only way to do that – for him and for us – is to risk, and to love.

Give your safety away, Jesus told him, to those who need it more. Throw yourself over the edge. Abandon yourself to the love of God. Fall in love with God.

My friends, we can do the same! But above all else, we must not continue on with a bland, tame decorum of politeness, which can never be used in the transformation of human lives. Our Lord calls us to holy boldness, to love others in the power of the Holy Spirit, to speak the living Word of God to those who are hopeless and lost. By the grace of God, we will do this together, as a community of holy boldness and love. Amen.