Rev. Susan M. Craig
September 3, 2006
Song of Solomon 2: 8-13
Mark 7: 1-8, 14-15, 21-23
A Time for Action

Good morning. It is very good to be able to gather here in the Meetinghouse, and by way of the radio this morning. We welcome all our beach service devotees who are joining us today indoors, adjusting to a non-beach morning. Non-beach in that unfortunately, the beach, where we gather, basically washed away last night due to the storm and high water, and has rearranged itself further down the beach. Yesterday was quite a day and quite a night, and now much work lies ahead for our parks department and for each of us as we begin the process of cleaning up. But it is good to be together.

I must say, that when I chose my sermon title on a warm day in early August, I had no idea, that “A Time for Action” would find itself in this context. Somehow, the idea of savoring the last few moments of summer before plunging into all that fall holds - doesn’t fit anymore. Indeed, as the events of this weekend demonstrate, the times for taking action in our lives are not necessarily such that they can be scheduled and adhered to. As we have seen, long anticipated plans and schedules can be rearranged at the drop of a hat – or the arrival of a hurricane - as our families and neighbors, and our earth need our care.

And it is the engagement in just that sort of caring activity – which springs from who we are as people of faith that I would like us to consider this morning.

Now, I am not proposing that we consider such actions as something new, for we look within ourselves, I believe we may find those actions to already be an elemental aspect of what it means for us to be in a loving relationship with our Creator.

Let me ask this. Why should we be concerned with putting our faith in action? Why should we be talking about this as a congregation? In fact, you may be wondering, how dare I even bring up the subject? For, isn’t faith a private matter?”

What I would like to propose and clarify today is that faith is a personal matter, but not a private matter. Let me explain. The concept, that faith is personal but not private, was coined by Jim Wallis in his recent book God’s Politics, and that may surprise you for much that is written about faith dwells on the personal. In fact, as I sought out the prayers which we have used and will continue to use in today’s service, I was surprised to see how much of our liturgy is written keeping religion in the vein of the personal.

Certainly, as a pastor, one of my greatest hopes centers around that of a personal religion. I hope and pray that people can come to know God in their lives; and come to know that they are loved and forgiven – even beloved by God. So much of this world does not know or believe that, and I feel that such an absence is a great source of guilt and fear under girding many of the defensive actions in our world.

But in an ongoing and deepening relationship with God, knowing we are loved and forgiven – is only first part of the story, and I believe, far from all that God hopes for us and from us in this world. Knowing we are loved and forgiven matters … not just for the purposes of our eternal salvation, but so that we can live joyfully and fully in this lifetime, live “on earth as it is in heaven”. And that living –fully on this earth - is where faith moves beyond the personal into the corporate – as we think of ourselves as a congregation, as part of the general public, as we see ourselves as citizens of our towns, this nation – and the world.

Our God (and by the way, everybody else’s God as well) created us with the unique ability to be able to participate in loving relationships. As Christians, that means being in relationship with God and the rest of creation. Why the link? If we look at the Great Commandment, as reported in Matthew and Luke’s Gospels, we see first the command to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength, and a second that is like it – that is also part of the Great Commandment, to love our neighbors as ourselves.”

As we enter into relationship with God, if we want to respond in love, to make it a two way relationship, to deepen our relationship, we see that God is calling us not only into a personal relationship with God alone, but at the same time into relationship with all of creation. And right there we have it, a faith that is personal, but not private.

We see this in Genesis where God entrusted Adam and Eve with care for the garden, and ultimately, for the earth. And again in Luke, when Jesus stood in the synagogue in Jerusalem, announcing his ministry. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.” Jesus’ teachings regarding the sorts of characteristics our shared lives should exhibit –emphasized the importance of caring for the marginalized and the sick and welcoming the stranger. It is not a one-on-one, losing sight of the world relationship.

To help us consider what it means to be part of a loving relationship, I chose our scripture lesson from the Song of Solomon out of today’s lectionary readings. Now John Stansell would tell you that the Song of Solomon is not a usual scripture choice for a worship service. Rather, as you know, it is most commonly found in a service of marriage. But I chose it for today, because it celebrates lovers responding to one another. The stag comes leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills. He stands gazing in the windows and calls “Arise my fair one and come away, for now the winter is past, the rains is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time for singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard. It is a telling of love – of love not just thinking good thoughts, but put into action delighting in the midst of all creation.

Given all this, how shall we respond to our God of love? As people of faith, the first step comes in realizing God’s presence in our world, and secondly, in our choosing to respond to God’s invitation to be in relationship. Then, comes our choice as to how we will live out that relationship.

Our New Testament lesson for today from Mark coaches us further on this last step. We find the scribes and Pharisees gathering with Jesus as his disciples were eating a meal. Noticing that some of the disciples were eating with defiled hands, - eating without washing - they asked Jesus about this – to which Jesus responded calling them “hypocrites” for worrying more about ritual observances that looking and listening for opportunities to love God and neighbor – as first priorities. Here we find Jesus warning of the danger that the numerous laws of ritual practice were becoming so important in their carefully structured daily living and the rituals were obstructing or obfuscating the heart of the law and the recognition of opportunities in which to act faithfully.

How many ritual observances do we follow? Here at First Church we follow an order of worship, a calendar of activities, and teach a curriculum based on scripture to our children; all of these as part of our efforts and desires to come to God and live faithfully. Just so, think for a moment about our daily routines – we get up, maybe go jogging, walk the dog, run for the train, fix lunches for our children, take them to school, stop for coffee – and read the paper, do the sudoku, go to the office, or return home to work in other ways, go to the gym…Generally, you could say, we are very good at filling up our days here at First Church and at home, and in both places possibly missing chances to hear God’s call and respond to those people and situations for which the God we love would hope and pray for our awareness and response. Let’s not let our routines carry us away this year.

Miriam Theresa McGillis, a Catholic sister who has dedicated her life to the concerns of the earth has written:

“It is no accident that we’ve been born in these times, that we find our lives unfolding now, with our particular histories and gifts, our brokenness, our experience, and our wisdom. It is not an accident.”

Her words are words of encouragement and invitation trusting in God’s call and urging us to listen for God’s guidance as we take out place in the unfolding of creation.

Brazilian thinker and educator, Paulo Freire, known for his concern for the oppressed has said this: “We cannot create knowledge without acting. This focus of such action is (a) to transform the world, and (b) to establish interdependent relationships with human beings, with the cosmos, and with God.”

Everyday provides thousands of moments for such actions. What we say and do makes a difference. What we don’t say and don’t do also makes a difference - in big and little ways.

Let me tell you a story.

As Mrs. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me, I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"
"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. Sure look good."
"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"
"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."
"Good. Anything I can help you with?"
"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."
"Would you like to take some home?"
"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."
"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"
"All I got's my prize marble here."
"Is that right? Let me see it."
"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."
"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"
"Not zackley. But almost."
"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble."
"Sure will. Thanks, Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado, but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering. Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.

One by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes. Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

"Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came to pay their debt." "We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho"

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.