The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost , 08/11/2019

Sermon on Luke 12:32-40, by Evan McClanahan

Isaiah 1:1, 10-20, Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16, Luke 12:32-40

Last weekend, America saw another two examples of grotesque evil as multiple gunmen in multiple locations took the lives of the innocent in the name of a cause. Just as we might have been thinking, “Oh, isn’t it nice that we haven’t had a mass shooting in a while?”, another round of sorrow-inducing headlines appears. I already had a sermon written for Sunday, and I did not feel I could adequately address the shooting, but I trusted that just as I came to church burdened by such violence and hatred, others would have as well.

During our service, I hoped that in our rituals, we would see the obvious and beautiful answers to violence and anger: we share a meal together; we offer peace to and desire peace for one another; we sing songs of a hopeful present and future together; we are sent into the world as freed peacemakers; and on last Sunday in particular, our reading from Colossians 3 described the unique gathering power of the Gospel for people from all over the world: Paul wrote, “Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.”

But as I do not consider ad-libbing a strength, I thought it would be foolish to attempt to put coherent thoughts together, especially since these kinds of events are unique and it can be hard to offer some kind of all-encompassing answer to madmen who possess no hope.

But our text this week does address the problem. I’m thinking in particular of the passage from Hebrews, a rather famous passage on faith. Indeed, Hebrews 11 is often called the “Hall of Faith”, for the entire chapter is dedicated to recounting the courageous men and women who trusted God and acted in faith, on that which is hoped for, not that which is seen. From Abel to Abraham, Sarah to Moses, and Rahab to Samson, Hebrews 11 chronicles real and true heroes who persisted in the face of hardship, threat, hunger, and injustice.

They are heroes precisely because they persevered. They did not know the outcome of what they were doing. They did not know if they would be fed or have a place to sleep at night. They lived in times of change and times of judgement. For all they knew, their entire lives would be useless, the faith they loved wouldn’t last a generation, and the cause would be lost. And yet they persevered.

Our heroes of the faith highlight two very different ways to live: with faith and without faith. One is a life with hope and one is a life without hope. What we see when we see terrorism is a life without faith. There is no hope that things can get better or that there is a purpose when things are not as good as we want them to be. The immigrants, the gays, the Jews, the rich, the Christians, etc. are to blame for how bad things are and if we kill enough of them or strike fear into their heart, we can make everyone else feel our rage. Because there is no hope that a sovereign and good God is in control, fearful men and women – usually men – take matters into their own hands. And when they lose patience with God’s timing, the only solution becomes violence.

Those who live without faith cannot envision a better future. They don’t see a way out from the bad news they read on their favorite blogs or hear in the headlines. They can’t imagine how people different from them can be our neighbor or how less than ideal economic circumstances can be improved. So they are afraid. And in extreme cases, because they cannot imagine anything better, they are violent.

It is often said that those who commit violence are cowards. That’s true. Because it takes courage to have faith and to trust in God. Let it never be said that to trust in God is easy, or that merely identifying yourself as a Christian means you really and deeply trust God! To really trust in God means you are vulnerable before God and you believe things will come to pass with absolutely no evidence that that is the case.

Fear of the future, fear of change is something we all have to deal with. And yet, what is rational or reasonable fear, and when does it become sin? I remember when I opposed some of the changes in our church’s denomination, I was told that I was “afraid”. I disagreed then and still do. Sometimes you should oppose change, sometimes you should not. Sometimes opposition to change is out of fear and sometimes it is not. Sometimes, hating change demonstrates a lack of faith and sometimes opposing change demonstrates a strong faith. Each issue is different.

Do you know, for example, where we get the word sabotage? There is a legend that French workers who opposed technological innovation would throw their wooden shoes (sabots) into the machinery. Actually, the word likely refers to the process of slowing work down to cost a manufacturer money. It’s a form of on-the-job striking. Such clumsy or slow work was equated to a person who wore wooden shoes. But the idea is the same: a saboteuris one who willfully destroys or slows progress because of a fear of change.

Much of the terror we see is because the fear of change is so great that they see no hope of resolution. Well, there are certainly more ideal circumstances than others, but in many cases, we have no idea is change will be for the better or worse because we don’t know the future.

So what does a life of faith look like? How is it different? First, we trust that God works all things out for good. That doesn’t mean that He makes everything good for us. Rather, He works everything out for purposes that He knows and we trust that in his timing and providence, He is doing exactly what He intends. When God was contemplating destroying Sodom and Abraham is bargaining with him, he says to God rhetorically, “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?” The answer is obviously, “Yes.”

Second, we act as though we believe God will do what is just. We don’t sit back and wait for God to handle it. We pray, we read the scripture, we actively seek God’s will so that when we are confronted with change we do our best to assess whether it is change for the better or worse. Often, as is the case with technological innovation, it is a bit of both.

But even when we fight for truth and justice and lose, we still trust God. For in the end, we know that God exists and that he is the sovereign judge of all. So it is not our place to judge prematurely. We don’t get to violate the Law of God by murdering and terrorizing or even by lying and stealing because we believe we need to make things right. That is fear, not faith.

Audrey Hepburn once said, “To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” So what is the garden you can plant today? Maybe it is an actual garden? Maybe it is investing in a ministry. It is at the very least being part of the solution rather than violently being part of the problem.

In our Gospel lesson, Jesus tells us that we do not know the day nor the hour that he will come again. Therefore, we are to be alert and ready for his coming again at any time. To daily seek to do what is right, to daily pray to God, and to daily seek peace with your neighbor is to be faithful.

So let us keep watch like those heroes did before us, not giving in to the cynicism of our day, not losing so much faith in God that violence and hatred and fear become our only answers. I wish I had a more comprehensive solution to the violence of our world. For now, can we at least seek that among ourselves, right here and right now? Amen.

Pastor Evan McClanahan

E-Mail: emc2@felchouston.org

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