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Have you
ever had one of those defining moments in your life (or as
we preachers say: "That'll preach")? One of those
God-incidences when, as Patrick Henry has subtitled his book,
The Ironic Christian's Companion, you find the mark of
God's grace in the world. Just such a moment is the inspiration
for this sermon.
Imagine,
if you will, Detroit Metro Airport on a busy holiday evening.
Our family is waiting at the crowded gate for a delayed flight
to see our 12-year-old son off to be with Dad for the holiday.
Mom, noting that her son has his cap on inside the terminal,
asks him (politely, I might add) to please remove it from
his head, as gentlemen do not wear their hats indoors. Being
sharp like any 12 year old, he surveyed the scene and promptly
pointed out to his mother that many men were wearing their
hats. To which Mom replied: "That may be the case, but
in our family, men are expected to take off their hats indoors,
so would you please remove your hat." Immediately our
son shot back: "Oh, Mom. You're so Victorian!"
The word
"Victorian" stood out like a sore thumb in my consciousness.
Not only does it have pejorative connotations, but I also
resemble that remark. I have strong and mixed connections
to that era. My grandparents were both born in the 1860's
in England. "Pop" Oates sought his fame and fortune
by emigrating to the Yukon and British Columbia - finding
neither, I might add. My paternal grandfather, an Anglican
priest, set forth to evangelize the heathen in Manitoba and
British Columbia. Would you believe they both settled in,
of all places, Victoria B.C. You can see "Victorian"
is a term that I cannot evade. Besides, I was brought up in
a Victorian household.
I have
very mixed feelings about the period. In fact, when I recall
those parts of my own childhood that are not particularly
memorable, I chalk it up to my Victorian upbringing. Many
historians have reviled and castigated the age as one of hypocrisy,
repressive prudishness and colonial exploitation. Is the era
really one of old wine, old-fashioned values to be discarded
as a snake sheds its skin?
Why even
bother with this Victorian thing? Well, it is part of my story
and today is New Year's Eve, traditionally a time to look
forward and a time to put the past behind us. This New Year's
Eve, we stand on the edge of a new millennium - depending
on who's counting, that is. Is it the beginning of the third
millennium? In Jerusalem, the coming year is towards the end
of the sixth millennium as Jews count from the reckoning of
creation of the world. Or is it early in the second millennium,
if you count from Mohammed's migration from Mecca to Medina?
Or is it midway through the third millennium, if you are counting
from the birth of Buddha? However we count the years, we have
a history, a past and inherited tradition preserving a sense
of whose we are and where we have come from. Sometimes the
old wine is good, too. As new calendars replace old ones tomorrow,
maybe it's a good time to combine optimism and hope for the
future with renewed respect for the past. After all, January
is named after the Roman god Janus who looks both forward
and backward.
So as
we stand on the edge of aught one ('01), let's survey the
world around us. It marks the end of one era and the beginning
of another. It is a time of unparalleled economic growth and
prosperity. One nation's currency and military power dominate
the world. Welfare reform has been enacted. The Balkans are
a symbol of disorder and ethnic strife. Migration from our
farms to urban areas continues unabated. It is a time of global
migration and immigration. There has been unheard of technological
change. The economy is bedeviled by an urban underclass. Many
are trumpeting the age as one of materialism and secularization,
while others proclaim that it is an age of religious revival.
It is a time of shifting sexual mores. Religious controversies
over inclusiveness and the authority of scripture dominate
the news. Church/state issues are hotly debated. An aging
queen sits astride the throne of England with a middle age
king in waiting. In a word, the eve of aught one is a time
of great social and economic change. 2001 - Yes. 1901 - Yes.
Was it,
is it, the best of times? Was it, is it, the worst of times?
Were we, are we, on the cusp of an age of rapid humanitarian
progress? Were we, are we, on the edge of an age of social
decay in which old paths are getting lost? Were we, are we,
experiencing an age of secular humanism; or were we, are we,
on the verge of a century of religious revival?
Whether
2001 or 1901, Dickens was on target with his famous introductory
lines to A Tale of Two Cities: "It was the best
of times, it was the worst of times." How many of you
remember the rest of the lines? "It was the age of wisdom,
it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief,
it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the spring of hope,
it was the winter of despair." Once again the answer
is Yes. These are biblical themes, all. The world is messy,
has been messy and will continue to be messy. But if the scriptures
teach anything, it is that God is at work whether it is the
best or worst of times.
Robert
Adams, an historian of the Victorian era, has written: "The
contrast with Christianity is curious; everybody professed
that doctrine but nobody followed it. Everybody followed utilitarianism
and hardly anyone professed it!" Cynical? Yes. True?
You be the judge. 2001 or 1901?
A challenge
for the church in these or any other times is this: Is society
the shaper of doctrine or is the church a shaper of society?
Again the answer is Yes. The author of Ecclesiastes (3:1)
caught the reality of the human condition: "For everything
there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven."
Patrick
Henry, in the book The Ironic Christian's Companion,
wrote: "The Bible itself is a great poem, in which the
rhymes are not so much words as themes and patterns. When
the prophets explained to the Israelites in Babylonian exile
what had happened, they patterned the message on the deliverance
from Egypt as told in Exodus. God would do something new,
but it would be reassuringly familiar. The Bible repeatedly
replays ancient melodies transposed in a new key." (italics
mine)
New wine/old
wine. New controversies/old controversies. Today's teaching
by Jesus in Matthew has often been interpreted as an either/or
proposition. It seems to me the issue is more of appropriateness,
which is often lost when the old or the new are trumpeted
as values in and of themselves. Jesus warns his followers
that both be preserved. Not only what is appropriate but what
should we appropriate from the past. As Christians, we hold
the Old Testament and the New Testament in tension. The church
itself is always facing the new-versus-old conundrum. I am
amused by the fact that theologically conservative congregations
are liturgically the most innovate and open to new ways, whereas
the more theologically liberal or diverse congregations tend
to be liturgical traditionalists. Perhaps F. Scott Fitzgerald
can be helpful as he has written: "Can we hold two opposed
ideas in mind and still retain the ability to function?"
The answer, once again, is Yes.
The old
and the new are constantly being proclaimed. Christianity
has always been influenced by and influenced the cultures
it has encountered. Ancient melodies have been played in a
new key. Christmas and Pentecost are but two examples. Believing
that God can speak to us from and in the culture. I'd like
to review a recent movie, which has been criticized in the
press for being anti-religious, simplistic, predictable and,
in the biggest put-down of all, "retro-Gallic-nostalgia."
The movie is Chocolat.
The movie
centers around some of the oldest and best themes from our
religious heritage. A mysterious person enters a town and
people are transformed. In her nontraditional way, she upsets
the town habits and flies against its conventions by opening
a chocolate shop on the eve of Lent, a season for fasting.
Note today's scripture passage. She is not only a stranger
but accepts all kinds of people regardless of social status
as she befriends the town eccentrics and misfits. The powers
that be, secular and religious, take offense that she would
open, heaven forbid, a chocolate shop on the eve of Lent.
A memorable scene towards the end of the movie is a banquet
birthday party in which our stranger hosts what looks like
twelve of the town's unconventional persons. The movie's themes
are ancient melodies in a new key.
Perhaps
more interesting than the movie are the reviews quoted in
the newspaper ads. They trumpet the film as: "Tantalizing,
a rare treat. It floods the screen with genuine magic. Delicious,
you'll want to come back for seconds." Sounds like reviews
for the greatest story ever told. My New Year's wish for each
of you is that you will see the Jesus story afresh and that
you will find it tantalizing and a rare treat. May it flood
your life with genuine magic and may it be so delicious you'll
want to come back for seconds. And may you be open to receive
something new that is reassuringly familiar.
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