Oh, the Places We'll Go

Dear friends and followers,
Thank you for your patience and your prayers. Marie and I have finally (happily! joyfuly!) arrived in Marshall, Texas and have begun serving as Pastor and Spouse. Today was my first Sunday in the pulpit at First Presbyterian and worship was glorious. So with no further ado...

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday October 3, 2010, the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Lamentations 1:1-6, 3:19-26
Psalm 137
2Timothy 1:1-14
Luke 17:5-10

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

In literature, there are two models of optimism. One of them is Don Quixote. Quixote is the Man of La Mancha; he is the one who tries to cure the ills of his society through acts of chivalry. While part one is written as a farce, written to see how comical the life of a chivalrous man is when seen through the eyes of sensible readers, the second part is more serious and is focused on deception. The noble, if not a little mentally unhinged “Man of La Mancha,” becomes aware of how the world perceives him and how his nobility is mocked by those around him. Even his squire, the faithful Sancho Panza, makes sport of his master. While accidental, Panza’s deceit shatters Don Quixote. Eventually, the noble knight falls into a melancholy which is only “cured” when he regains his mental health. He dies a sane yet broken man. Alas, the tragedy of a broken man who realized he was a better man when he lived his delusions.

The other great model of optimism is Pollyanna. Pollyanna is a young orphan sent to live with her rich but stern Aunt Polly in Vermont. Pollyanna’s gift is that she can see the bright side of every situation through what she calls “The Glad Game,” an optimistic attitude she learned from her father. Her attitude and the game eventually rub off on the entire town and people begin to see their lives as half full rather than empty and futile. This is even true when Pollyanna is hit by a car and looses use of her legs. After some turmoil, Pollyanna finds her silver lining and is glad that she once had legs.

If there is one difference between these two literary optimisms it is this:

Quixote’s optimism is based on something inside of him, his chivalry and people’s reactions to it. Ultimately it becomes unrealistic; a foolishly impractical pursuit of principles marked with rash and lofty romantic ideals. Pollyanna’s optimism is based on gratefulness for what she has, which has nothing to do with other’s reactions. It’s not that she doesn’t realize that she is in hot soup; she knows that life can be harsh, especially for an orphan who goes to live with an aunt that doesn’t particularly want to become her guardian. It’s just that she knows what is good in her life and she chooses to celebrate goodness instead of pain.

Quixote tried to make grand gestures, he tilted at windmills; this is where we get the expression “tilting at windmills.” He tried to change great things by great acts. Pollyanna changed lives around her simply by counting her meager blessings and sharing them with others until thankfulness prevailed.

I mention this because of how it relates to our reading from Lamentations this morning.

The Jews call the book of Lamentations “Eikha” or in English, “How.” In this book of scripture, Jeremiah, on behalf of the Jews, cries to the Lord how horribly their world is crumbling around them. It’s a tragic time for the community. Jerusalem has become like a widow who mourns at the loss of her protector. She was a princess in the Lord’s world, but now she is merely another slave. Exile will be difficult, ripe with suffering and hard servitude. There will be no resting place; no place to rest, eat, or drink. The nation’s gates are desolate and its foes will become its master. The nation’s enemies will prosper and Judah will suffer.

This is how the book of Lamentations begins, with a full recitation of the woes of the nation of Judah beginning with the question “How lonely sits the city that once was full of people?”

Yet on the same scroll Jeremiah’s words come, words realizing that while even the thought of affliction and homelessness is wormwood and gall, there is one truth that comes to mind. There is one thought that will keep the people even in the midst of their exile: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end, they are new every morning, great is the faithfulness of the Lord.

Jeremiah knows that there is pain and struggle and strife, he has been prophesying this very pain, struggle and strife for a long, long time. The people just mocked him as he told them a hard rain was going to come and there was only one place to find an umbrella.

Jeremiah is not like Don Quixote who hopes and prays that the works of people, even good works by well meaning people, will make a difference. He is more like Pollyanna who knows that there is good; and in the case of Jeremiah, knows the source of all that is good is in the name of the Lord.

It is Pollyanna who takes even the smallest blessings of her life and makes them so that they become blessings for the world around her. It is through her attitude and her actions that she can see the blessings of the bleak world around her. As the Apostles cry out to Jesus asking for more faith, it is our Lord and Savior who says that even the smallest amount of faith, faith the size of a mustard seed, can do unimaginably mighty things.

So today, with our faith the size of a mustard seed, we are able to see and live the future that the Hebrews couldn’t even imagine in exile. Today we join with Christians around the globe and celebrate the meal that brings us all together. World Communion Sunday originated at the Shadyside Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh by The Rev. Dr. Donald Kerr in 1933. This was the darkest year of the Great Depression. The storm clouds of Nazism and Fascism hovered over Europe and threatened the entire world. As a faith response to these concerns, a group of leaders at Shadyside Presbyterian Church sought to do something both real and symbolic to proclaim that God is God indeed, in spite of politics, economics and future shock.

Still in our time when the Great Recession has been declared over by those who no longer suffer its effects, and still in our time when men and women fight oppression and terror overseas and at home paying the ultimate price for their work on behalf of a grateful nation where we reap the benefits of their sacrifice; still it is time for us to do what is both real and symbolic to proclaim to the world that God is God indeed. In the words of Dr. Kerr, “[World Communion Sunday] emphasized [sic] that we are one in the Spirit and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.”

According to our very own Book of Common Worship, “The [Lord’s Supper] was given by Christ himself. Before church governments were devised, before creeds were formalized, even before the first word of the New Testament was written, the Lord's Supper was firmly fixed at the heart of Christian faith and life. From the church's inception, the Lord's Day and the Lord's Supper were joined. Along with the reading and proclamation of the scripture, the supper has given witness to God's redemptive acts each Lord's Day, giving Christian worship its distinctive shape. In this sacrament, the bread and wine, the words and actions, make the promises of God visible and concrete. The Word proclaimed in scripture and sermon is confirmed, for all that the life, death, and resurrection of Christ means, is focused in the Sacrament.”

It is by this meal shared together with fellow Christians everywhere that we do more than share Dr. Kerr’s vision. It is the meal that nourishes Christians everywhere. It is the meal that our Lord ordained to feed his servants until he comes again in victory.

So today we share this meal, a meal we consider the outward sign of an inward grace. It is by grace through faith, faith the size of a mustard seed, faith the size of a little orphan girl, that we come and share the promise given us for new life in Christ Jesus. We do this for one reason, because in the words of Luke, we do as we are expected to do. To paraphrase the words of the New English Bible in verse ten of our reading from Luke, we are servants doing our duty. Today we do it together in celebration with Christians of all stripes.

We celebrate the Lord’s Supper, doing this in remembrance of our Lord Jesus Christ. We do this also to be fed to do the work of God, going where our Lord sends us, sharing what we are called to share with the world.

“Oh, the Places You’ll Go” was the last book written, illustrated, and published by acclaimed children's author Dr. Seuss before his death in 1991. About life and its challenges and written in the style of classics such as “Green Eggs and Ham” and “The Cat in the Hat,” “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” is a popular gift for high school and college graduates every year because of its whimsical style and eye to the future. It is perhaps best known for the line, “Will you succeed? Yes, you will indeed. (98 3/4% guaranteed.)”

Oh, the places we’ll go. For Marie and I it is a joy and our distinct privilege to come together with you and share the mission of this part of the body of Christ. We come together with you in the sight of our Lord to do the work that we have all been called to do, and it is by this sacrament that we all come together to be nourished by the Lord our God. Do I know the shape and direction of that ministry today? Well, this I do know: That in the light of God, through discernment of the Holy Spirit, and in the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, all I can say is, “Oh, the places we’ll go.” After all, it’s 98 3/4% guaranteed.

Together we will go into God’s good creation taking the Word with us. As our acolyte Brionna leads us, where a little girl with faith the size of a mustard seed leads, let us go boldly into the world. Let us all take the light of God into the world.