|
While I attended Garrett
Evangelical Theological Seminary, our weekly routine of
classes, reading, writing and studying was broken up by
three weekly worship services. On Tuesday morning,
Wednesday evening and again on Thursday morning, students,
staff and faculty would gather in the chapel to sing, pray
and hear God’s Word preached.
Garrett Evangelical is a
predominantly United Methodist seminary, so these worship
experiences were pretty “Methodist.” They were thoughtful.
They were beautiful. They were often tranquil.
Contemplative, they were. Emotive, they were not. These
worship experiences were often proof that we Methodists have
earned our distinction as God’s “frozen people.” (I think
Methodists are the only ones who don’t see the irony of
remaining seated while sing “Standing on the Promises.”)
So it was always interesting to
observe what would happen when we “well behaved” Methodists
would come into worship, only to discover that sitting in
the front row was one Dr. Reginald Davis. Dr. Davis, the
dean of students, was not a United Methodist. Dr. Davis was
a Baptist, and there are some differences between the way
Anglo Methodists and African American Baptists experience
worship. One of the differences is what happens during the
sermon. You see, unlike us white Methodists, in the black
Baptist tradition, the sermon is not a spectator sport. In
the black Baptist tradition, the sermon is participatory. In
Dr. Davis’ tradition, the congregation doesn’t sit patiently
through the sermon. Instead, the congregation talks back to
the preacher. So you can imagine what happened the first
time we Methodists settled in, only to hear an “Amen!” being
shouted from the front row. Suddenly all the sleepy-eyed
Methodists were awakened and wondering what had just
happened. But before we could figure it out, Dr. Davis would
once again break the silence of the congregation with a loud
“Preach it!”
But of all Dr. Davis’
exclamations, we had a favorite—a phrase that was always
reserved for just the right moment. He saved this phrase for
times when the preacher was beating around the bush or
dancing around a subject. If the preacher just wasn’t being
clear, he’d shout these three little words, “Make it
plain!” “Make it plain!” was the signal to the preacher to
say what needed to be said, to get to the point, to be clear
and concise. “Just tell us what we need to hear, preacher!”
was the sentiment captured in that phrase. “Make it plain!”
I think that is exactly what the
world is saying to the church. “Make it plain!” Stop beating
around the bush. Say what needs to be said. Be clear and
concise about who you are and where you stand. The world
wants to know who we are, what we believe, and why the
answer to either of those questions makes any difference in
the first place. Just “make it plain.”
But here’s the problem. I think
we have trouble doing just that, “making it plain.” If you
were to walk into the office tomorrow, or go the gym, and
someone was to say to you, “I know you go to that church.
I’ve been having a lot of questions lately about the whole
‘God thing.’ Tell me what it is all about,” would you know
what to say? Would you be able to confidently and concisely
give them an answer? Could you tell them why we believe what
we believe? If asked, could you just “make it plain”?
That is precisely what we will
attempt to do these next couple of weeks. We will try to
make it plain. We will try to keep the main things, the main
things. We will try to get to the heart of who we are and
what defines us. We will try not to mince words or dance
around the subject. We will just try to make it plain.
We find in our scriptures just
this kind of moment, a moment when God boils it down to the
essentials, when God simply “makes it plain.” We turn
tonight to the prophet Habakkuk, a little-known and
seldom-read book found towards the end of the Old Testament.
Habakkuk is considered one of the twelve Minor Prophets, not
because what he has to say is of minor importance but
because his writings are so short compared to the more
voluminous writings of Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel. Truth
be told, we do not know much about Habakkuk. His book gives
us few clues as to who he was or when he wrote. Habakkuk is
different from the writings of the other prophets. Most of
the prophets bring God’s complaints about the ways of world
to the people or rulers—“Listen up, people, God isn’t too
pleased with the way things are going! What are you going to
do about it?” Habakkuk, on other hand, brings the
people’s complaints about the ways of the world to God—“Listen
up, God, the people aren’t too pleased with the way things
are going! What are you going to do about it?”
The book of Habakkuk is a series
of very candid conversations between the prophet and God.
The prophet asks God to explain why the world is such a
mess, why there is so much suffering and violence and war
and contempt for what is right. The prophet seems to be
asking if God is interested in, or even capable of doing
anything about, the affairs of the world he created. The
problem of one maintaining a belief in God and in God’s just
rule in the face of an injustice is the central issue of the
book.
That is also one of the central
issues facing our world today. Where is God in the midst of
terrorism, war, hunger, HIV/AIDS and deadly poverty? The
announcements coming out of Ford this week sent shock waves
right through this community with tens of thousands of jobs
being phased right out. It makes you wonder if God has
written off all of Southeast Michigan. Where are you, God?
Have you forgotten us? It is easy to understand how one
might look at this world and say, “If there ever was a
God…God has left the building.”
That is what Habakkuk says to
God thousands of years ago. He too looks out at his world
and says:
How long, O Lord, must I call
for help, but you do not listen?
Or cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not save?
Why do you make me look at
injustice? Why do you tolerate wrong?
Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and
conflict abounds.
Therefore the law is paralyzed,
and justice never prevails.
The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is
perverted.
To this
long list of complaints, God answers:
Look at the nations and
watch—and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something
in your days that you would not believe, even if you were
told.
“Wait and see,” says God. “I am
not finished yet. I haven’t given up. I know what it looks
like, but just wait. Hang in there, and don’t give up. You
won’t believe what I am about to do.” So Habakkuk waits…and
waits…and waits…and in chapter two we sense that he cannot
wait any longer. The prophet says to God:
I will stand at my watch and
station myself on the ramparts; I will look to see what he
will say to me, and what answer I am to give to this
complaint.
“Look, God. I am starting to
look foolish here. I stand and I wait. I keep telling the
people an answer will come, but it doesn’t. I am not sure I
can stand up for you any longer.”
To which
God replies:
Write down the revelation and
make it plain on tablets so that a herald may run with it.
For the revelation awaits an
appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove
false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come
and will not delay.
See, he is puffed up; his
desires are not upright—but the righteous will live by
faith.
It is as if God says, “Look, let
me make this simple. Go out and put a billboard on our
church. Make sure it is big enough and plain enough that
anyone cruising by in their car can’t miss it. Put these
three little words on it: Live By Faith.” God makes
it plain that the righteous, the truly religious, will live
by faith. God says those who live by faith already know
that, in the end, God will work everything out.
The scriptures can’t make it any
plainer that this. Three words: Live By Faith. If we were to
put a billboard on our church, we couldn’t go wrong if it
simply read, “Live By Faith.” So if you are asked by
someone, “How can you possibly believe in God in a world
that seems to going to hell in a hand basket?”, our simple
answer is, “I live by faith.”
The dictionary defines “faith”
as confidence or trust in a person or thing;
faith in another’s ability; a belief that is not based on
proof.
The great
reformer Martin Luther describes faith like this: “Faith
is God’s work in us that changes us and gives new birth from
God.”
Lay theologian
Frederick Buechner writes: “Faith is not being sure where
you are going, but going anyway. A journey without maps.”
Poet Wendell Berry suggests that
faith is “Being joyful even though you have considered all
the facts.”
Religious leader Jim Wallis
proposes that “Faith is believing despite the evidence and
then watching the evidence change.”
I like the way the author of the
book of Hebrews defines faith. In the eleventh chapter, it
is written, “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and
certain of what we do not see.” God told the prophet
Habakkuk thousands of years ago, and I believe God is
telling us today, to do just that, to live with an assurance
of things hoped for with the conviction of things not seen.
To make it plain: live by faith.
Faith believes that behind the
scenes there is always something bigger going on. Faith
believes that, despite what it looks like, God hasn’t given
up on us or on this world. Now let’s be honest. Living with
a conviction of things not seen isn’t easy. We don’t seem to
be wired that way. The world we live in tends to function
under the motto: “What you see is what you get!” We like the
things we can see because those seem to be the things we can
understand and control.
However, if we take the writer
of Hebrews seriously, then trusting only in what we can see
seems to be the opposite of faith. If the meaning of life is
only to be derived from what we can see, is it any wonder so
many of us invest our lives in material things, believing
that cars and homes and clothes and bank accounts are the
measure of life’s meaning? And if our sense of security is
only derived from what we can see and control, then we will
continue to invest resources in walls and alarms and gates
and tanks and guns and bombs…believing also that the more of
this stuff we have than the other guy, the more secure we
will be.
Faith tells us that there is
more to this life than what we can see. Faith changes
everything:
-
The
world sees the poor as failures and burdens on society,
but faith sees what is unseen…faith sees the poor as
children of God worthy of dignity and respect.
-
The
world sees addiction as a dead-end with nowhere to go,
but faith sees addiction as an opportunity for healing
and transformation.
-
The
world sees job loss as a time to panic, but faith sees
it as an opportunity to redirect, refocus and relearn.
-
The
world sees suffering as weakness, but the eyes of faith
see it as the possibility for growth and revelation.
-
The
world sees the events of 9/11 as the clash between the
forces of good and evil, but faith sees those events as
a window into the deeper meaning of peace, community and
understanding.
-
The
world sees the baby born in a manger as another welfare
case and mouth to feed, but the eyes of faith see him as
Emmanuel, God with us.
-
The
world sees the cross on the hill as a sign of defeat and
a symbol of execution, but faith sees victory and a
promise of life eternal.
-
The
world sees death as the end of the story, but faith sees
death as a doorway to see the fullness of God.
Perhaps what the world needs
more than anything are people who live by faith, because
faith changes everything.
On Labor Day, Bridget and I took
Casey to the Romeo Peach Fest. It was a great day and a
little slice of the “small-town America” we both grew up
with. When the day was over, we piled back into the car and
began the forty-minute ride home. Bridget and I sat in the
front seat and Casey was in the back in his car seat. For
safety, his car seat faces back, meaning he cannot see us
and we cannot see him. As we drove, he began to cry. It was
a soft whimper at first, but as the minutes passed, the
intensity of his crying increased. Bridget and I tried to
comfort him from the front seat. We talked to him: “Casey,
we’re right here. Everything is all right. We’re almost
home. Hang in there.” But the crying continued until he was
at a full scream. There seemed to be nothing we could do to
convince him that everything was okay. When we finally got
off the freeway and came to a stoplight, I opened my door
and jumped into the back seat. The look on my child’s face
can only be described as complete terror. He thought he had
been abandoned. Because he could not see us, he was
convinced we were not there. He was sure he was alone.
Faith is “the assurance of
things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” At the
end of the day, maybe faith is as simple as trusting that
God is still in the driver’s seat, even when we can’t see
him or aren’t sure how close we are to home. Live by faith.
I can’t make it any more plain than that.
|
