When Seeing Blocks Believing
Sermon
Hope For The Weary Heart
Second Lesson Sermons For Lent/Easter Cycle C
Home builders can reveal the secret to you: what will make the floor plan and design attractive -- and sell the place -- are so-called "glamor bathrooms" (you know, with huge double sinks, jacuzzi bathtubs big enough to swim in, and so on), first floor master bedroom, gourmet kitchen, and an open, flowing, "great-room-with-vaulted-ceiling-and-fireplace-in-the-corner" kind of plan. It hooks people, looks like a dream come true, and greatly enhances the possibility of closing the sale.
Not on the list, not very glamorous at all, but absolutely essential is the humble closet. In spite of the fact that they are not even included in the calculations of square footage space, no home is constructed without them. There are at least two reasons for closets, one obvious, the other somewhat embarrassing. The obvious reason is that you need a place to hang your clothes, put your shoes, and store your stuff. The other reason is that you need a place where you can suddenly throw and cram stuff when company is expected on short notice, and you don't want to be embarrassed! We couldn't live without closets! Think of what it would be like if we didn't have a place to stuff all of the clutter of our lives and get it out of the way so we didn't have to look at it.
It is the truth: no home is constructed without a closet; no life is lived without them. Oh, you might not readily see them, for they're not constructed with dry wall and nails and stud; you and I might even be embarrassed to admit we have them -- but we both know they are there, inside the recesses of our mind and heart, hidden away, the places where we cram and hide away all the stuff that clutters up our otherwise neat lives. Sometimes the clutter is the consequence of a bad decision, something messy we got ourselves into by making a bad choice. Sometimes it's the hurtful things we've done or said. Sometimes what we'd like to hide away are the failures of our lives, all the "should haves" and "could haves" -- but "didn'ts"! And sometimes its just our self -- our real self, as we know we are, and we don't really want anyone to see that. We all have that stuff lying around, reminding us of the things and moments we'd just as soon forget, reminding us of just how fragile and broken -- and human -- we really are. So it's good to have a place where we can shove it and not have to look at it all the time. For people of faith, however, the clutter is different, the embarrassment deeper, and the desire to hide it -- and not look at it, not even admit it exists -- is all the much greater. This stuff, this embarrassing clutter of our not-so-faithful lives, is all the unanswered questions, all the ambiguity and gnawing doubt, all of the fragility of faith which clutters up our otherwise neat lives with God.
It works like this: our lives get touched by grace, just like Paul wrote to the Romans. We hear the word of faith; it grasps and penetrates us. We find ourselves confessing with our lips and believing in our heart that through the power of love God raised Jesus from the dead, and we find ourselves being raised from our own dead lives. We even find ourselves trusting, believing God that our own puny lives will be saved, just like Paul says. God help us, we even find ourselves believing the Scripture Paul quotes from Isaiah 28:16, that no one who believes will be put to shame! We do all of this! And then it happens. Life happens: something terrible, totally undeserved and without explanation happens to us, or to someone we love, or perhaps to a total stranger we've only heard about or read about. A vital, promising life is cut short. A terrible, debilitating illness saps life. A disaster swoops down inexplicably upon good, caring people. It can be -- and often is -- a hundred different things that happen, but the end result is always the same: Faith wavers and sometimes vanishes; we have far more questions than we ever have answers; we "call upon the Lord"... and hear nothing. And so we become not only angry, but ashamed, even embarrassed about it all, ashamed and embarrassed to cry out in desperation, "It doesn't work! We call upon the Lord, but we surely don't feel saved!" What we see is not God's care for us, or for those we love, but heartache, hurt, tragedy, inexplicable suffering. And rather than enforcing and nurturing our belief, our seeing ends up blocking our believing. Our lived experience challenges the word that Paul or anyone else preaches.
We may be ashamed and embarrassed to admit it, but we know it's true: God's presence is not always apparent to us; sometimes we look, but see only ourselves and our own struggles; sometimes we reach out and grasp only emptiness. Oh, to be sure, all of this faith-business -- all of this "God caring for us, sustaining us, and saving us" business -- sounds good, but in the face of what we see in our lives -- the stuff we'd just as soon cram into some closet and not see -- it's really hard to believe. It is vital that you and I summon the honesty to admit this to ourselves, to each other, and to the God who can raise us to new life, because we will never be able to live with authenticity until we give up the illusion of blind faith. Authentic faith is not blind, but transforms what sounds good into something that really is good, transforms blind faith into living trust. You see, authentic faith never comes until we give up the illusion that everything is great and wonderful all the time, until we unpack the closet, take out that stuff we've hidden there, take it out and look at it and deal with all of its scary reality. If you and I are going to live with authentic faith, then we're going to have to resist the seductive temptation of denying the reality of fear and failure, heartache and brokenness, pain and tragedy and all the rest of our lived experience. We're going to have to give up living the illusion that life has perfect answers to all of our questions. It doesn't!
No, the challenge of faith is to see beyond what is -- all of the ugliness and hurt and ambiguity we see -- to look beyond, and in the clutter of our lives trust in the relationship God offers us, not in answers we don't have now and probably never will have. With eyes of faith we can see it. We can see a relationship with God that will sustain us in whatever wilderness and dried up, lifeless desert we find ourselves. We can see a relationship that will enable us to experience victory over all the demonic, self-destructive forces in our lives. With eyes of faith we can see the lie for what it is, and the truth about living for what it is. We can see the relationship that will make all the difference in our lives -- yes! -- but most importantly, we can see how you and I can claim this relationship with God as our own. First, by living as if God's love was the most powerful thing in the world ... because it is! Oh, it may not look like it. There are times when it looks like God's love is profoundly impotent. In the face of all that would tear at our lives, in the midst of a world drowning in its own brutality and violence and injustice, it is easy to look around and sell out for something else; the temptation is great. But we know the truth of it: often, what you see blocks believing!
Paul urges and invites us to look with eyes of faith, and when we do, what we see is the absolute victory of God's love, made manifest in the resurrection of Jesus. The fact of the resurrection -- which is a fact; the living Spirit of Christ among us in the Church witnesses to the fact of it -- the fact of the resurrection confirms the victory of God's love. Sure, the victory is not complete yet. The perfection of the created order has not yet come about, and we are living between the "now" and the "not yet." We know this; this is why there still is hurt and pain and tragedy and all the rest which reminds us the victory is not yet complete. But just because the victory isn't complete doesn't mean there isn't victory. God's love is the most powerful thing in the world, and when you and I begin to live like this is true -- when we begin to live the truth that love triumphs -- why, then, we will claim that relationship with God that will both give us life, as well as an authentic faith for living it.
The second way we claim this relationship as our own is to live as if we were God's own -- because we are! You see, God's love is not only the most powerful thing in the world, but God has chosen to love us -- each and every one of us -- and nothing can stop or defeat that love. So it doesn't matter ultimately when hurt and heartaches claim us, or when suffering overtakes us, or when our questions go begging in the night for answers. What matters is that God has claimed us, God is with us, God loves us. And even if we go down with the ship, we are in the arms of God. It is enough. I think this is why Paul always put "salvation" or "being saved" in the future tense. The ultimate victory lies with God, even if in the present it is hard to see.
When it happens -- when it is hard to see any victory, any presence of God -- it is worthwhile to remember the truth of it: sometimes seeing blocks believing. In those moments, look, again with eyes of faith, and see the only thing we need to see, know the only thing we need to know: God ... loves us. When we know it, when we've claimed this living relationship because the living God has claimed us, we shall not need closets in which to hide; praise God, we can step out and live with faith and hope.
Not on the list, not very glamorous at all, but absolutely essential is the humble closet. In spite of the fact that they are not even included in the calculations of square footage space, no home is constructed without them. There are at least two reasons for closets, one obvious, the other somewhat embarrassing. The obvious reason is that you need a place to hang your clothes, put your shoes, and store your stuff. The other reason is that you need a place where you can suddenly throw and cram stuff when company is expected on short notice, and you don't want to be embarrassed! We couldn't live without closets! Think of what it would be like if we didn't have a place to stuff all of the clutter of our lives and get it out of the way so we didn't have to look at it.
It is the truth: no home is constructed without a closet; no life is lived without them. Oh, you might not readily see them, for they're not constructed with dry wall and nails and stud; you and I might even be embarrassed to admit we have them -- but we both know they are there, inside the recesses of our mind and heart, hidden away, the places where we cram and hide away all the stuff that clutters up our otherwise neat lives. Sometimes the clutter is the consequence of a bad decision, something messy we got ourselves into by making a bad choice. Sometimes it's the hurtful things we've done or said. Sometimes what we'd like to hide away are the failures of our lives, all the "should haves" and "could haves" -- but "didn'ts"! And sometimes its just our self -- our real self, as we know we are, and we don't really want anyone to see that. We all have that stuff lying around, reminding us of the things and moments we'd just as soon forget, reminding us of just how fragile and broken -- and human -- we really are. So it's good to have a place where we can shove it and not have to look at it all the time. For people of faith, however, the clutter is different, the embarrassment deeper, and the desire to hide it -- and not look at it, not even admit it exists -- is all the much greater. This stuff, this embarrassing clutter of our not-so-faithful lives, is all the unanswered questions, all the ambiguity and gnawing doubt, all of the fragility of faith which clutters up our otherwise neat lives with God.
It works like this: our lives get touched by grace, just like Paul wrote to the Romans. We hear the word of faith; it grasps and penetrates us. We find ourselves confessing with our lips and believing in our heart that through the power of love God raised Jesus from the dead, and we find ourselves being raised from our own dead lives. We even find ourselves trusting, believing God that our own puny lives will be saved, just like Paul says. God help us, we even find ourselves believing the Scripture Paul quotes from Isaiah 28:16, that no one who believes will be put to shame! We do all of this! And then it happens. Life happens: something terrible, totally undeserved and without explanation happens to us, or to someone we love, or perhaps to a total stranger we've only heard about or read about. A vital, promising life is cut short. A terrible, debilitating illness saps life. A disaster swoops down inexplicably upon good, caring people. It can be -- and often is -- a hundred different things that happen, but the end result is always the same: Faith wavers and sometimes vanishes; we have far more questions than we ever have answers; we "call upon the Lord"... and hear nothing. And so we become not only angry, but ashamed, even embarrassed about it all, ashamed and embarrassed to cry out in desperation, "It doesn't work! We call upon the Lord, but we surely don't feel saved!" What we see is not God's care for us, or for those we love, but heartache, hurt, tragedy, inexplicable suffering. And rather than enforcing and nurturing our belief, our seeing ends up blocking our believing. Our lived experience challenges the word that Paul or anyone else preaches.
We may be ashamed and embarrassed to admit it, but we know it's true: God's presence is not always apparent to us; sometimes we look, but see only ourselves and our own struggles; sometimes we reach out and grasp only emptiness. Oh, to be sure, all of this faith-business -- all of this "God caring for us, sustaining us, and saving us" business -- sounds good, but in the face of what we see in our lives -- the stuff we'd just as soon cram into some closet and not see -- it's really hard to believe. It is vital that you and I summon the honesty to admit this to ourselves, to each other, and to the God who can raise us to new life, because we will never be able to live with authenticity until we give up the illusion of blind faith. Authentic faith is not blind, but transforms what sounds good into something that really is good, transforms blind faith into living trust. You see, authentic faith never comes until we give up the illusion that everything is great and wonderful all the time, until we unpack the closet, take out that stuff we've hidden there, take it out and look at it and deal with all of its scary reality. If you and I are going to live with authentic faith, then we're going to have to resist the seductive temptation of denying the reality of fear and failure, heartache and brokenness, pain and tragedy and all the rest of our lived experience. We're going to have to give up living the illusion that life has perfect answers to all of our questions. It doesn't!
No, the challenge of faith is to see beyond what is -- all of the ugliness and hurt and ambiguity we see -- to look beyond, and in the clutter of our lives trust in the relationship God offers us, not in answers we don't have now and probably never will have. With eyes of faith we can see it. We can see a relationship with God that will sustain us in whatever wilderness and dried up, lifeless desert we find ourselves. We can see a relationship that will enable us to experience victory over all the demonic, self-destructive forces in our lives. With eyes of faith we can see the lie for what it is, and the truth about living for what it is. We can see the relationship that will make all the difference in our lives -- yes! -- but most importantly, we can see how you and I can claim this relationship with God as our own. First, by living as if God's love was the most powerful thing in the world ... because it is! Oh, it may not look like it. There are times when it looks like God's love is profoundly impotent. In the face of all that would tear at our lives, in the midst of a world drowning in its own brutality and violence and injustice, it is easy to look around and sell out for something else; the temptation is great. But we know the truth of it: often, what you see blocks believing!
Paul urges and invites us to look with eyes of faith, and when we do, what we see is the absolute victory of God's love, made manifest in the resurrection of Jesus. The fact of the resurrection -- which is a fact; the living Spirit of Christ among us in the Church witnesses to the fact of it -- the fact of the resurrection confirms the victory of God's love. Sure, the victory is not complete yet. The perfection of the created order has not yet come about, and we are living between the "now" and the "not yet." We know this; this is why there still is hurt and pain and tragedy and all the rest which reminds us the victory is not yet complete. But just because the victory isn't complete doesn't mean there isn't victory. God's love is the most powerful thing in the world, and when you and I begin to live like this is true -- when we begin to live the truth that love triumphs -- why, then, we will claim that relationship with God that will both give us life, as well as an authentic faith for living it.
The second way we claim this relationship as our own is to live as if we were God's own -- because we are! You see, God's love is not only the most powerful thing in the world, but God has chosen to love us -- each and every one of us -- and nothing can stop or defeat that love. So it doesn't matter ultimately when hurt and heartaches claim us, or when suffering overtakes us, or when our questions go begging in the night for answers. What matters is that God has claimed us, God is with us, God loves us. And even if we go down with the ship, we are in the arms of God. It is enough. I think this is why Paul always put "salvation" or "being saved" in the future tense. The ultimate victory lies with God, even if in the present it is hard to see.
When it happens -- when it is hard to see any victory, any presence of God -- it is worthwhile to remember the truth of it: sometimes seeing blocks believing. In those moments, look, again with eyes of faith, and see the only thing we need to see, know the only thing we need to know: God ... loves us. When we know it, when we've claimed this living relationship because the living God has claimed us, we shall not need closets in which to hide; praise God, we can step out and live with faith and hope.
