Lighting A Fire In A Cold Room
Sermon
LIGHT IN THE LAND OF SHADOWS
Sermons For Advent, Christmas And Epiphany, Cycle B
His name was Father Dominic. He spoke English fluently and he was on a sabbatical leave from his post in France to study in America. He was old beyond his years, a man whose physical resemblance was that of an eighty-year-old instead of his rightful age of 58. At once you knew something was not quite right about him. Father Dominic's teeth ground together when he talked. His eyes were like a monkey's eyes, much too large for the small face that housed them. He appeared to stare right through things and people. Father Dominic sprinted everywhere he went, as if life had left him behind and he was desperately trying to catch up.
One day he explained his insatiable appetite for rushing through time. "I was caught in France as a young man during the World War II German occupation," he began. "One winter I had no wood to light a fire and the cold weather broke my health. The room was dark and so cold, so cold," he chattered. "I contracted tuberculosis and all I could do was shiver in a corner night after night, all winter long. I would have given anything to have had some candles or just one little fire in the fireplace. I needed some fire in that cold room."
How contrasting is that need to light a candle for warmth and illumination with a world whose use of fire has become too often cosmetic. As we approach Christmas, this is a time of candles and fires. We enter a season where fires are lit in even the warmest of rooms. People in sun-belt states will rise Christmas morning and lay a huge fire in their fireplaces. Then, with their air conditioners running full blast, they will sit by the crackling fire and open their presents. The ambiance, not the need, necessitates the fire.
Sometimes the Advent candle means but a furthering of the religious ambiance of the Christmas season. We light the candle for the candle's sake. Yet God never lights a candle, in human hearts or elsewhere, for the candle's sake alone. God lights fires in cold rooms, cold hearts, and cold societies for illumination and warmth. No soul is truly saved until it becomes, in a direct sense, a savior to other souls. The fatal blow to any faith is when it is regarded as an end in itself.
Earl Grey wrote of his father, a former Governor-General of Canada, "He lit so many fires in cold rooms."1 What a beautiful eulogy to have earned. There are so many cold rooms in life. Some are cold for lack of wood and coal, like Dominic's forced impoverishment. But most are cold for lack of sympathy, meaning, humility, friendship, and hope.
Today we find our inspiration in thinking of a young Isaiah who went into the temple at Jerusalem with a dejected spirit. Fearful problems faced his world and the man who was supposed to deal with them, King Uzziah, had just died. Isaiah's world was like a cold, dark room. In that temple he apparently found a soul-reviving warmth that redirected his whole purpose. Perhaps we can do the same as we examine our own reason for being in a house of worship in our day and time.
Once Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick gave four wrong reasons why people come to church.2 There are people who come because they believe it to be the decent thing to do in the normal American community. In other words, they are there to light the candle for the candle's sake.
There are people who come because they are fans of the popular preacher. Just as others admire athletes, movie stars, and entertainers, they admire the preacher. In other words, they are there to light the candle for the candle's sake.
There are those who come because the church helps one's reputation in the eyes of community social respectability. Again, they are there to light the candle for the candle's sake.
Then there are those who think of worship as a glorified Bufferin tablet to guarantee or induce a little peace of mind away from the petty problems of business and family.
Today's text has little interest in those wrong reasons. It is totally saturated with the positive and creative reasons people come to worship. It is a text for those for whom life is lonely, empty, and unfulfilled. It is a text for those who are confused by the noisy clatter of a technological, materialistic world in pursuit of the proper Christmas gift and have come to earnestly ask, "Is there any word coming from the Lord?" It is a text for those who experience moral incompetence, aching fears, and a life whose structures are becoming twisted. It is a text for those who need a soul-reviving warmth and a mind-edifying illumination.
Isaiah's vision happened "in the year that King Uzziah died." That great king had raised the kingdom of Judah to its highest levels of peace and prosperity since the glory days of David and Solomon. The proud young Isaiah must have had great dreams of the future for his nation.
Unfortunately King Uzziah spoiled all that. King Uzziah was a religious man. But he was also a man who loved power. One day, swollen with his importance, he marched into the temple and decided he would be the priest. Taking a golden censer filled with incense, he went into the Holy Place, where only the priest had a right to go. Well, the officiating priest told King Uzziah that wasn't how things were done. Uzziah became red with rage. He never attended worship after that. He sort of retired from religion and kept his son, Jotham, at home. And young Jotham never forgot that. He never formed the habit of worship attendance in his childhood since his father had quit. In his young and tender years, he never sat down and thought the matter through.
The Bible tells the complete story of Uzziah's son, Jotham. He was 25 years old when he came to the throne. Scripture says, "He did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, as his father Uzziah had done, but unlike his father, he never entered the temple of the Lord" (2 Chronicles 27:2).
Jotham had leadership ability and he was smart. He was an excellent businessman. He was energetic and he was a builder. He regarded the temple as an asset -- great for the community and its people. Consequently, he donated a large sum of money to it. In fact, he even constructed an upper gate for it. If it had needed a pipe organ or a stained-glass window, Jotham would have mailed in the money for it at the drop of a hat. He was a religious man. He was also young and successful. He was busy organizing armies, building businesses, and shaping the destiny of his city. If you had asked him, he probably would have candidly told you, "Doing good and taking care of my family is my religion. At least I'm not a hypocrite."
Jotham never understood why the people acted corruptly under his leadership and why, ultimately, all the spiritual fruit fell off the vines in his kingdom under his son Ahab and his daughter-in-law, Jezebel.
Yes, Jotham's father, King Uzziah, went to worship, but he quit when the priest and his associates would not let him light the fire, swing the incense, and smoke up the Holy Place for his own ends. That decision, to light the fire for the fire's sake, on the part of Uzziah affected a whole generation, especially his own son.
The call, vision, and response of Isaiah contrasts sharply with the lack of call, lack of vision, and lack of response on the part of Uzziah.
Uzziah, full of self-sufficiency, marched into the temple trying to be his own priest. He was, in his own mind, God's representative on earth. He felt comfortable in his success and holiness.
Isaiah, on the other hand, went to the temple with a feeling of darkness, coldness, and desperate need. He felt uncomfortable with earthquake disturbances deep in his soul.
Uzziah, full of power, demanded to go into the throne room of God and worship for his own sake. He took the golden censer filled with incense to smoke up the Holy Place.
Isaiah, on the other hand, found himself stripped of all human egoism. He looked up and saw himself in the presence of the King of kings and Lord of lords. In spite of the crumbling of earthly thrones, Isaiah saw God still on God's throne. His pride blanched before the white-hot holiness of God. "Woe is me!" he cried. He saw deep in his soul a self-centeredness that needed to be cleansed. God's smoke filled the entire temple.
Uzziah's response to the barrier placed by the human priests in front of his ego was to fly into a rage against them. This rage was like a live coal which burned hot within him and led him to keep his son, Jotham, at home. Uzziah emerged from the temple with the dread mark of leprosy on his forehead. As he thundered away from the temple, having been refused the chance to light a fire for the fire's sake, he probably retorted, "If you ever need anything, don't send for me." Then, he entered a dark, cold world of the leprosarium for the rest of his days.
By contrast, Isaiah's response to the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" was quite direct. "Here am I. Send me." And he emerged with the mark of the prophet on his head and a fire in his mouth which could never be put out.
The text points us toward powerful contrasts in the motivations of two men, both of whom considered themselves religious. One tried to light a fire for the fire's sake, and the other found the fire purging him of his coldness, darkness, and despair. The text is a proper one for us this season.
Isaiah had something awakened in him by the setting worship provided. The name of the priest, the songs the choir sang, and the context of the readings were not listed as having been particularly important. What was important was the fact that Isaiah had a place to worship, and a proper motivation within his soul with which to worship.
The church is important for the relationships and settings it provides. Even in this day of automation and mass media, there is still a need for us to worship with our brothers and sisters. Dial-a-Prayer and Dial-a-Sermon are nice conveniences. Yet they are not all we need. Watching a service on television is perhaps better than no service at all. Vending machines would perhaps be more efficient for distribution of the Lord's Supper. Yet in all of these something is missing. The ability to confess deeply requires a relationship with other human beings, sinful people if you will. God makes himself known to sinful persons among sinful people. That is the only means of balancing the budget in one's soul and lighting the fire in our cold rooms so we can see the coming of Christ. So be it!
____________
1. As quoted by W.A. Cameron, The Potter's Wheel (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1927), pp. 219-220.
2. See "What Are You Doing in Church," pp. 73-81, in Donald Macleod, Higher Reaches (London: Epworth Press, 1971).
One day he explained his insatiable appetite for rushing through time. "I was caught in France as a young man during the World War II German occupation," he began. "One winter I had no wood to light a fire and the cold weather broke my health. The room was dark and so cold, so cold," he chattered. "I contracted tuberculosis and all I could do was shiver in a corner night after night, all winter long. I would have given anything to have had some candles or just one little fire in the fireplace. I needed some fire in that cold room."
How contrasting is that need to light a candle for warmth and illumination with a world whose use of fire has become too often cosmetic. As we approach Christmas, this is a time of candles and fires. We enter a season where fires are lit in even the warmest of rooms. People in sun-belt states will rise Christmas morning and lay a huge fire in their fireplaces. Then, with their air conditioners running full blast, they will sit by the crackling fire and open their presents. The ambiance, not the need, necessitates the fire.
Sometimes the Advent candle means but a furthering of the religious ambiance of the Christmas season. We light the candle for the candle's sake. Yet God never lights a candle, in human hearts or elsewhere, for the candle's sake alone. God lights fires in cold rooms, cold hearts, and cold societies for illumination and warmth. No soul is truly saved until it becomes, in a direct sense, a savior to other souls. The fatal blow to any faith is when it is regarded as an end in itself.
Earl Grey wrote of his father, a former Governor-General of Canada, "He lit so many fires in cold rooms."1 What a beautiful eulogy to have earned. There are so many cold rooms in life. Some are cold for lack of wood and coal, like Dominic's forced impoverishment. But most are cold for lack of sympathy, meaning, humility, friendship, and hope.
Today we find our inspiration in thinking of a young Isaiah who went into the temple at Jerusalem with a dejected spirit. Fearful problems faced his world and the man who was supposed to deal with them, King Uzziah, had just died. Isaiah's world was like a cold, dark room. In that temple he apparently found a soul-reviving warmth that redirected his whole purpose. Perhaps we can do the same as we examine our own reason for being in a house of worship in our day and time.
Once Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick gave four wrong reasons why people come to church.2 There are people who come because they believe it to be the decent thing to do in the normal American community. In other words, they are there to light the candle for the candle's sake.
There are people who come because they are fans of the popular preacher. Just as others admire athletes, movie stars, and entertainers, they admire the preacher. In other words, they are there to light the candle for the candle's sake.
There are those who come because the church helps one's reputation in the eyes of community social respectability. Again, they are there to light the candle for the candle's sake.
Then there are those who think of worship as a glorified Bufferin tablet to guarantee or induce a little peace of mind away from the petty problems of business and family.
Today's text has little interest in those wrong reasons. It is totally saturated with the positive and creative reasons people come to worship. It is a text for those for whom life is lonely, empty, and unfulfilled. It is a text for those who are confused by the noisy clatter of a technological, materialistic world in pursuit of the proper Christmas gift and have come to earnestly ask, "Is there any word coming from the Lord?" It is a text for those who experience moral incompetence, aching fears, and a life whose structures are becoming twisted. It is a text for those who need a soul-reviving warmth and a mind-edifying illumination.
Isaiah's vision happened "in the year that King Uzziah died." That great king had raised the kingdom of Judah to its highest levels of peace and prosperity since the glory days of David and Solomon. The proud young Isaiah must have had great dreams of the future for his nation.
Unfortunately King Uzziah spoiled all that. King Uzziah was a religious man. But he was also a man who loved power. One day, swollen with his importance, he marched into the temple and decided he would be the priest. Taking a golden censer filled with incense, he went into the Holy Place, where only the priest had a right to go. Well, the officiating priest told King Uzziah that wasn't how things were done. Uzziah became red with rage. He never attended worship after that. He sort of retired from religion and kept his son, Jotham, at home. And young Jotham never forgot that. He never formed the habit of worship attendance in his childhood since his father had quit. In his young and tender years, he never sat down and thought the matter through.
The Bible tells the complete story of Uzziah's son, Jotham. He was 25 years old when he came to the throne. Scripture says, "He did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, as his father Uzziah had done, but unlike his father, he never entered the temple of the Lord" (2 Chronicles 27:2).
Jotham had leadership ability and he was smart. He was an excellent businessman. He was energetic and he was a builder. He regarded the temple as an asset -- great for the community and its people. Consequently, he donated a large sum of money to it. In fact, he even constructed an upper gate for it. If it had needed a pipe organ or a stained-glass window, Jotham would have mailed in the money for it at the drop of a hat. He was a religious man. He was also young and successful. He was busy organizing armies, building businesses, and shaping the destiny of his city. If you had asked him, he probably would have candidly told you, "Doing good and taking care of my family is my religion. At least I'm not a hypocrite."
Jotham never understood why the people acted corruptly under his leadership and why, ultimately, all the spiritual fruit fell off the vines in his kingdom under his son Ahab and his daughter-in-law, Jezebel.
Yes, Jotham's father, King Uzziah, went to worship, but he quit when the priest and his associates would not let him light the fire, swing the incense, and smoke up the Holy Place for his own ends. That decision, to light the fire for the fire's sake, on the part of Uzziah affected a whole generation, especially his own son.
The call, vision, and response of Isaiah contrasts sharply with the lack of call, lack of vision, and lack of response on the part of Uzziah.
Uzziah, full of self-sufficiency, marched into the temple trying to be his own priest. He was, in his own mind, God's representative on earth. He felt comfortable in his success and holiness.
Isaiah, on the other hand, went to the temple with a feeling of darkness, coldness, and desperate need. He felt uncomfortable with earthquake disturbances deep in his soul.
Uzziah, full of power, demanded to go into the throne room of God and worship for his own sake. He took the golden censer filled with incense to smoke up the Holy Place.
Isaiah, on the other hand, found himself stripped of all human egoism. He looked up and saw himself in the presence of the King of kings and Lord of lords. In spite of the crumbling of earthly thrones, Isaiah saw God still on God's throne. His pride blanched before the white-hot holiness of God. "Woe is me!" he cried. He saw deep in his soul a self-centeredness that needed to be cleansed. God's smoke filled the entire temple.
Uzziah's response to the barrier placed by the human priests in front of his ego was to fly into a rage against them. This rage was like a live coal which burned hot within him and led him to keep his son, Jotham, at home. Uzziah emerged from the temple with the dread mark of leprosy on his forehead. As he thundered away from the temple, having been refused the chance to light a fire for the fire's sake, he probably retorted, "If you ever need anything, don't send for me." Then, he entered a dark, cold world of the leprosarium for the rest of his days.
By contrast, Isaiah's response to the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" was quite direct. "Here am I. Send me." And he emerged with the mark of the prophet on his head and a fire in his mouth which could never be put out.
The text points us toward powerful contrasts in the motivations of two men, both of whom considered themselves religious. One tried to light a fire for the fire's sake, and the other found the fire purging him of his coldness, darkness, and despair. The text is a proper one for us this season.
Isaiah had something awakened in him by the setting worship provided. The name of the priest, the songs the choir sang, and the context of the readings were not listed as having been particularly important. What was important was the fact that Isaiah had a place to worship, and a proper motivation within his soul with which to worship.
The church is important for the relationships and settings it provides. Even in this day of automation and mass media, there is still a need for us to worship with our brothers and sisters. Dial-a-Prayer and Dial-a-Sermon are nice conveniences. Yet they are not all we need. Watching a service on television is perhaps better than no service at all. Vending machines would perhaps be more efficient for distribution of the Lord's Supper. Yet in all of these something is missing. The ability to confess deeply requires a relationship with other human beings, sinful people if you will. God makes himself known to sinful persons among sinful people. That is the only means of balancing the budget in one's soul and lighting the fire in our cold rooms so we can see the coming of Christ. So be it!
____________
1. As quoted by W.A. Cameron, The Potter's Wheel (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1927), pp. 219-220.
2. See "What Are You Doing in Church," pp. 73-81, in Donald Macleod, Higher Reaches (London: Epworth Press, 1971).
