Theology Two Sizes Too Small
Sermon
Sermons On The First Readings
Series I, Cycle A
One of the legacies of children's writer Dr. Seuss is his wonderful story, "How The Grinch Stole Christmas." One college economics professor discovered Dr. Seuss stories from his grandchildren, and would often read them to his classes in undergraduate economics. They enlivened what some have called "the dismal science."
Those who love the Grinch story know that it begins when the mean old Grinch attempted to stop Christmas from coming to the people of Whoville. Just before the big day, the Grinch stealthily carried away the presents and decorations. The diagnosis of the Grinch's condition was - his heart was "two sizes too small." He did not have the capacity to enjoy the Christmas festivities. Being "two sizes too small" is a difficult condition that is fairly common.
For instance, our geology and biology can be too small. Some think they are upholding the true faith by asserting that the earth is only about 10,000 years old and that purpose and chance could not be God's way of creating. One can admire these people for their faith. But their understanding of the world's origins is much too small to square with the geological and biological discoveries we now possess.
Our ethics can be "two sizes too small," also. Citing selected scripture and convention, some small--minded persons cannot give their blessing to the committed relationships of those who are sexually different. In the face of formidable evidence that our sexual orientation is given rather than chosen, these "too small" moralists are dealing with that dangerous commodity of self--righteousness. They place the fellowship of the church and its leadership positions beyond the reach of the sexually different. Their understanding of scripture and their refusal to listen to the godly truth coming from the witness of the sexually different is at least "two sizes too small."
Our political attitude toward taxes is certainly "two sizes too small." Of course no one wants to waste public monies and funnel them off to frivolous projects or to private use. This is a no--brainer. But our aversion to taxes takes its toll on good government as well as condemning many public needs to serious financial malnourishment. The result of this small--mindedness forces politicians to pander to our abhorrence of all taxes in order to be elected. Where is the political candidate who will tell us that their election will result in a tax increase, simply because the basic public needs are wanting while our private needs are awash in luxury and opulence? Such politicians are in short supply due to our "two sizes too small" mindset.
And why do our public radio and television stations have to pursue fund--raising campaigns several times each year? Beethoven or Sesame Street is the province of public broadcasting, not some periodic fund--raising efforts mandated by cuts in federal funding. Why is the United States the only western democracy without a national health care system? Our take on taxation seems to be "two sizes too small."
Our view on public education can also be characterized as "two sizes too small." Let's not even consider how difficult it is to educate young people who come from highly dysfunctional families or from the wastes of our inner cities. Nor will we judge those who flee the chaos of our city schools, or those who leave the poverty of some rural and village schools, or those who resist coming to terms with the modern world through private and "Christian" schools. The problem is our "two sizes too small" vision of education.
We have forgotten that education is the love of learning and rejoicing in the human capacity to develop wisdom and useful skills. There are no proficiency tests that will provoke the love of learning and a child's submission to its excitement and demands. Our test--crazed educational process may turn out to be terribly harmful simply because it is "two sizes too small," carrying with it a serious potential for judgment.
I
So what does this have to do with Isaiah? Perhaps a great deal. Writing during the awful experience of the Exile, this unknown author has come to believe that God is about to deliver the people back to their homeland, the Temple, Torah life, and a long--delayed fulfillment of their national hopes. But our author hears God speaking in a heart--stretching way:
It is too light a thing that you
should be my servant
to raise up the tribes of Jacob
and to restore the survivors of Israel;
I will give you as a light to the nations
that my salvation may reach to
the end of the earth.
This passage is an antidote for any theology that was "two sizes too small." Yes, God has a stake in the survival of Israel, but God doesn't want this agenda to be understood in narrow terms.
There are critics of biblical faith, ancient and modern, who say that the religion of the Bible is to speak consolation to the pains and sufferings of the human condition. Sigmund Freud had this understanding of religion. He believed it to be a crutch to help us face the pains and sufferings of life. Freud thought that the mature person is one who dares to live defiantly against the dark knowledge that there is often little justice in life, and that death delivers us all into an eternal nothingness. Freud has many followers who believe similarly. They offer this bleak picture of the human dilemma and tell us that "real humans" accept this painful scenario.
But Freud and his modern counterparts overlook much of the biblical message. Their grim stoicism misses the truth that the God of the Bible is a God who is less concerned about comfort than working out the godly dream for all humanity. Many in Israel were willing to settle for a fairly limited vision of God's intentions. Of course the biblical people could easily become excited about returning to former prominence and reclaiming the triumphs and achievements of their past. God unsettled this narrow understanding and declared that there are larger godly plans - the witness of the faith of Israel to all the world. This is vintage biblical God - assaulting our "two sizes too small" understanding.
Again and again the biblical message comes to us this way. Of course there is much in scripture that consoles us. Langdon Gilkey has said that humanity has three main problems: sin, fate, and death. The Bible is full of consolations for these crises. The Bible declares that God's mercy is larger than any of our sins. The Bible says that while God does not intervene and tweak history to our personal favor, God will walk with us through any such sufferings. The Bible announces that even though a sense of life after death is beyond any human comprehension, it still encourages us to believe that God can handle whatever happens to us at death.
Our modern Freudians can continue to believe as they like, but they cannot say that the biblical faith is for those who cannot face up to life, who need the consolations of a heavenly Father primarily concerned with helping us get through the night or day, or even next week. God does these things, but God's main concern is creating a humanity that lives out this earthly life in righteousness, justice, and peace. These godly, earthly goals stretch our narrow visions and our confining personal needs.
II
Let's conclude with a suggestion that enlarging our theological vision can have a positive effect on the vitality and influence of the church. We have been in a church growth mode for a couple of decades. There is not a lot of evidence that we have been very successful at this. We have read tons of books, gone to a multitude of workshops and conferences, passed resolutions, held celebrations in big arenas, hired dozens of self--proclaimed consultants, and pored over demographics until we are nearly exhausted, but we have very little to show for all of this effort. The national percentage of church membership has held steady for some time. Someone has suggested that we mostly have been shifting members from congregation to congregation. There has been very little outright creation of brand--new Christians. We have made little impact on the unchurched. There has been little church growth on the American scene.
Is it possible that our theology is "two sizes too small"? A young teenager was asked by her pastor why she was so disinterested in the church. She said it wasn't very challenging just to be asked to sing in the choir. Her need to give of herself was larger than just singing in the choir.
Our contemporary church - evangelical and mainline - has made discipleship a domestic, in--house experience, seldom putting youth and adults into risky, invigorating contact with the needs of the unchurched world. We are long on personal life concerns, which can shield people from the world, simply running ambulance service for the victims of our politics and economics. Seldom does the contemporary church shove its members out into the world where much of the hurt and injustice originate. Instead we comfort ourselves with forgiveness, prayers for gall bladders and high blood pressure, and pronounce assurances of heaven. In the process we tell ourselves that the church's biggest concerns are the budget, the lack of Sunday school teachers, and the pastor's long sermons.
It is quite possible that we will never put a dent into the millions of unchurched or unsynagogued or unmosqued Americans until we excite them with the overwhelming dream of God. There must be people inside and beyond the church who have been longing to hear a call like Isaiah's sense of God's concern. If so, real church growth and revival might happen. But it will never come if we continue to cherish our "two sizes too small" theology.
Our theology can easily be "two sizes too small." J. B. Phillips, the gifted translator of the New Testament into contemporary English, wrote Your God Is Too Small. He pointed out that many of us worship a God who is limited and too small. A too small sense of God can be personally crippling and can have public effects that are frightening. Many religious leaders preaching a highly judgmental God often become hard and critical themselves. Judgmental religion can prompt mentally insecure folks to do terrible things. Some believe that Andrea Yates, who drowned her children in an insane moment, thought she was saving them from a harsh and judgmental God. It could be that some "two sizes too small" theology and its practitioners bear some responsibility for that tragedy. Do I hear of a movement to canonize Dr. Seuss - Saint Seuss? The church could use a saint like him. And J. B. Phillips would be the first to affirm that effort with Isaiah 49 providing the text.
Those who love the Grinch story know that it begins when the mean old Grinch attempted to stop Christmas from coming to the people of Whoville. Just before the big day, the Grinch stealthily carried away the presents and decorations. The diagnosis of the Grinch's condition was - his heart was "two sizes too small." He did not have the capacity to enjoy the Christmas festivities. Being "two sizes too small" is a difficult condition that is fairly common.
For instance, our geology and biology can be too small. Some think they are upholding the true faith by asserting that the earth is only about 10,000 years old and that purpose and chance could not be God's way of creating. One can admire these people for their faith. But their understanding of the world's origins is much too small to square with the geological and biological discoveries we now possess.
Our ethics can be "two sizes too small," also. Citing selected scripture and convention, some small--minded persons cannot give their blessing to the committed relationships of those who are sexually different. In the face of formidable evidence that our sexual orientation is given rather than chosen, these "too small" moralists are dealing with that dangerous commodity of self--righteousness. They place the fellowship of the church and its leadership positions beyond the reach of the sexually different. Their understanding of scripture and their refusal to listen to the godly truth coming from the witness of the sexually different is at least "two sizes too small."
Our political attitude toward taxes is certainly "two sizes too small." Of course no one wants to waste public monies and funnel them off to frivolous projects or to private use. This is a no--brainer. But our aversion to taxes takes its toll on good government as well as condemning many public needs to serious financial malnourishment. The result of this small--mindedness forces politicians to pander to our abhorrence of all taxes in order to be elected. Where is the political candidate who will tell us that their election will result in a tax increase, simply because the basic public needs are wanting while our private needs are awash in luxury and opulence? Such politicians are in short supply due to our "two sizes too small" mindset.
And why do our public radio and television stations have to pursue fund--raising campaigns several times each year? Beethoven or Sesame Street is the province of public broadcasting, not some periodic fund--raising efforts mandated by cuts in federal funding. Why is the United States the only western democracy without a national health care system? Our take on taxation seems to be "two sizes too small."
Our view on public education can also be characterized as "two sizes too small." Let's not even consider how difficult it is to educate young people who come from highly dysfunctional families or from the wastes of our inner cities. Nor will we judge those who flee the chaos of our city schools, or those who leave the poverty of some rural and village schools, or those who resist coming to terms with the modern world through private and "Christian" schools. The problem is our "two sizes too small" vision of education.
We have forgotten that education is the love of learning and rejoicing in the human capacity to develop wisdom and useful skills. There are no proficiency tests that will provoke the love of learning and a child's submission to its excitement and demands. Our test--crazed educational process may turn out to be terribly harmful simply because it is "two sizes too small," carrying with it a serious potential for judgment.
I
So what does this have to do with Isaiah? Perhaps a great deal. Writing during the awful experience of the Exile, this unknown author has come to believe that God is about to deliver the people back to their homeland, the Temple, Torah life, and a long--delayed fulfillment of their national hopes. But our author hears God speaking in a heart--stretching way:
It is too light a thing that you
should be my servant
to raise up the tribes of Jacob
and to restore the survivors of Israel;
I will give you as a light to the nations
that my salvation may reach to
the end of the earth.
This passage is an antidote for any theology that was "two sizes too small." Yes, God has a stake in the survival of Israel, but God doesn't want this agenda to be understood in narrow terms.
There are critics of biblical faith, ancient and modern, who say that the religion of the Bible is to speak consolation to the pains and sufferings of the human condition. Sigmund Freud had this understanding of religion. He believed it to be a crutch to help us face the pains and sufferings of life. Freud thought that the mature person is one who dares to live defiantly against the dark knowledge that there is often little justice in life, and that death delivers us all into an eternal nothingness. Freud has many followers who believe similarly. They offer this bleak picture of the human dilemma and tell us that "real humans" accept this painful scenario.
But Freud and his modern counterparts overlook much of the biblical message. Their grim stoicism misses the truth that the God of the Bible is a God who is less concerned about comfort than working out the godly dream for all humanity. Many in Israel were willing to settle for a fairly limited vision of God's intentions. Of course the biblical people could easily become excited about returning to former prominence and reclaiming the triumphs and achievements of their past. God unsettled this narrow understanding and declared that there are larger godly plans - the witness of the faith of Israel to all the world. This is vintage biblical God - assaulting our "two sizes too small" understanding.
Again and again the biblical message comes to us this way. Of course there is much in scripture that consoles us. Langdon Gilkey has said that humanity has three main problems: sin, fate, and death. The Bible is full of consolations for these crises. The Bible declares that God's mercy is larger than any of our sins. The Bible says that while God does not intervene and tweak history to our personal favor, God will walk with us through any such sufferings. The Bible announces that even though a sense of life after death is beyond any human comprehension, it still encourages us to believe that God can handle whatever happens to us at death.
Our modern Freudians can continue to believe as they like, but they cannot say that the biblical faith is for those who cannot face up to life, who need the consolations of a heavenly Father primarily concerned with helping us get through the night or day, or even next week. God does these things, but God's main concern is creating a humanity that lives out this earthly life in righteousness, justice, and peace. These godly, earthly goals stretch our narrow visions and our confining personal needs.
II
Let's conclude with a suggestion that enlarging our theological vision can have a positive effect on the vitality and influence of the church. We have been in a church growth mode for a couple of decades. There is not a lot of evidence that we have been very successful at this. We have read tons of books, gone to a multitude of workshops and conferences, passed resolutions, held celebrations in big arenas, hired dozens of self--proclaimed consultants, and pored over demographics until we are nearly exhausted, but we have very little to show for all of this effort. The national percentage of church membership has held steady for some time. Someone has suggested that we mostly have been shifting members from congregation to congregation. There has been very little outright creation of brand--new Christians. We have made little impact on the unchurched. There has been little church growth on the American scene.
Is it possible that our theology is "two sizes too small"? A young teenager was asked by her pastor why she was so disinterested in the church. She said it wasn't very challenging just to be asked to sing in the choir. Her need to give of herself was larger than just singing in the choir.
Our contemporary church - evangelical and mainline - has made discipleship a domestic, in--house experience, seldom putting youth and adults into risky, invigorating contact with the needs of the unchurched world. We are long on personal life concerns, which can shield people from the world, simply running ambulance service for the victims of our politics and economics. Seldom does the contemporary church shove its members out into the world where much of the hurt and injustice originate. Instead we comfort ourselves with forgiveness, prayers for gall bladders and high blood pressure, and pronounce assurances of heaven. In the process we tell ourselves that the church's biggest concerns are the budget, the lack of Sunday school teachers, and the pastor's long sermons.
It is quite possible that we will never put a dent into the millions of unchurched or unsynagogued or unmosqued Americans until we excite them with the overwhelming dream of God. There must be people inside and beyond the church who have been longing to hear a call like Isaiah's sense of God's concern. If so, real church growth and revival might happen. But it will never come if we continue to cherish our "two sizes too small" theology.
Our theology can easily be "two sizes too small." J. B. Phillips, the gifted translator of the New Testament into contemporary English, wrote Your God Is Too Small. He pointed out that many of us worship a God who is limited and too small. A too small sense of God can be personally crippling and can have public effects that are frightening. Many religious leaders preaching a highly judgmental God often become hard and critical themselves. Judgmental religion can prompt mentally insecure folks to do terrible things. Some believe that Andrea Yates, who drowned her children in an insane moment, thought she was saving them from a harsh and judgmental God. It could be that some "two sizes too small" theology and its practitioners bear some responsibility for that tragedy. Do I hear of a movement to canonize Dr. Seuss - Saint Seuss? The church could use a saint like him. And J. B. Phillips would be the first to affirm that effort with Isaiah 49 providing the text.
