(Preached on Sunday, November 15, 2009)
Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching. -Hebrews 10:23-25
We have three years left! At least, according to the ancient Mayan long-count calendar, and Hollywood, who has released their latest “end of the world” blockbuster movie to make sure we are all informed in plenty of time to get ready. Evidently the ancient Mayan civilization in Central America and Mexico developed this calendar which has correctly predicted an astonishing number of other astrological and mathematical events and supposedly ends on December 21, 2012. Of course, on any given day the news can be so bad that it certainly seems as if the end of the world is coming. The recent tragedies in Fort Hood, Texas and Orlando, Florida have vividly focused our attention on the already overstrained system of military deployment and the rising rate of unemployment in our nation – and on the tremendous human costs of these; overwhelming stress, fear and despair. Every day the newspaper reports another teen suicide, drug overdose, drunken-driver fatality or story of a parent who’s killed a spouse, children and self, more political corruption, and another investment guru who defrauded lots of clients and robbed them of their life savings! When we turn to the news of the world and the health of the planet, the amount of suffering and sorrow is almost unbearable.
From the ancient Mayans to Nostradamus to Y2K and now 2012, there has never been any shortage of end-of-the-world scenarios. The predictions of “nuclear winter” have been replaced by global warming, and there is still a debate over whether the devastating climate changes will bring droughts or floods to vast regions of the earth – but the general agreement among all these scenarios is, “its gonna be bad.” There is still confusion over economic predictions and now there are more and more predictions about the demise of the church and organized religion. In September there was an article by the Associate Press Religion Writer, Rachel Zoll suggesting that the economic downturn has accelerated downturns in attendance and affiliation patterns with organized religion across the board in the United States to such an extent that even after the economy recovers there will be dramatic changes in “how people practice their faith, where they turn for help in times of stress and how they pass their beliefs to their children.”
But we do have reason to hope. That is what the author of Hebrews reminds us of with these words about Jesus and high priests and sacrifices. These words sound strange and foreign to us because we have never lived with a religious system built on animal sacrifice and the shedding of blood as a necessary symbol for forgiveness. But the people who first read these words did. This language, this imagery, was very meaningful for them. It was describing their faith system – a faith system stretching back for thousands of years which had brought stability, strength, courage, and hope to their lives and the lives of their parents, grandparents, and countless generations stretching back into the past.
But now that faith was being challenged. It was being challenged by competing faiths brought into their lives by the Roman conquerors and the accompanying Greek culture they had brought with them. But mostly it was being challenged by the new faith developing out of the teachings of Jesus and the reinterpretation of their traditional faith by his teachings and the teachings of his disciples.
The preacher of the Hebrews is trying to help them understand that these new teachings are not really a threat to their traditional faith or the hope that sprung from that faith. No, rather this new understanding of the faith brings them a stronger hope, not based on repetitive and fading rituals, practices and beliefs, but on a new understanding of life, a new understanding of the world, a new understanding of God, brought to us by the teachings of Jesus: teachings that God is inclusive, not exclusive; loving, not judgmental; compassionate and caring, not indifferent and distant. All of which offers a deeper, stronger hope for life.
This hope is what we can hold fast to in the world today. But we need each other to do so. That is why the author challenges us to “consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another,…”
The world today beats down on us at every turn and is filled with “bad” news and negative predictions. We all need encouragement to keep on keeping on, to hold fast to our hope. And there are few places we will find that encouragement. But one place we should always be able to find it is in church. The church can and should be a caring community in the midst of an uncaring world. Henri Nouwen defines a caring community in this way: “To care is to cry out with those who are ill, confused, lonely, isolated and forgotten, and to recognize their pains in our own heart … to care is to be present to those who suffer and to stay present even when nothing can be done to change their situation … to care is to be compassionate and so to form a community of people honestly facing the painful reality of our finite existence.”
How might this work in practical terms? What might it look like for us to consider how to provoke one another to love and good works and to encourage one another? The first very practical matter is by our attendance in worship. There is an old tale about a nobleman in a mountain village in Europe several centuries ago who wondered what legacy he should leave to his townspeople. At last he decided to build them a church. No one saw the complete plans for the church until it was finished. When the people gathered, they marveled at its beauty and completeness. Then someone asked, “But where are the lamps? How will it be lighted?” The nobleman pointed to some brackets in the walls and then gave to each family a lamp. He explained they were to bring their lamp with them each time they came to worship. “Each time you are here the area where you are seated will be lighted,” the nobleman said. “Each time you are not here, that area will be dark. This is to remind you that whenever you fail to come to church, some part of God’s house will be incomplete, it will be dark.” By our very attendance, we encourage one another in our faith and in our hope.
But then once we are here, the way we worship, also contributes to how we encourage one another. The Rev. Otis Moss III, pastor of Trinity United Church of Christ in Chicago, tells the story of witnessing an elder in that church one morning worshiping with reckless abandon. She took hold of every song and prayer as if each word held the secret of life and was the key to entering the holy of holies. She shouted, cried and talked back to the preacher with an urgency rarely seen in their tradition. After worship Pastor Moss had the opportunity to address this elder and was amazed by what she said. “I grab hold of worship so hard because it may be my last time!” What if we always worshiped, sang, prayed, read, hugged, laughed and meditated as if it were the last time? Just imagine the encouragement and hope, the provocation to love and good deeds, such passion could inspire in those around us?
There are other deeds we can do to encourage one another in our faith and hope, such as praying for one another. But let me close with a story of one more way we can do that, which is by sharing our own faith and hope with one another when we are facing personal struggles. John Todd was a preacher in the late 1800’s. When he was 6 years old, both his parents died so a kind-hearted aunt raised him. Years later, this aunt became seriously ill and wrote him a letter expressing her fear of death. John Todd sent her the following letter in reply: “I have never forgotten the day I made the long journey to your house. I can still recall the disappointment when, instead of coming for me yourself, you sent your hired man, Caesar, to fetch me. I remember my tears and anxiety as, perched high on the back of the horse and clinging tight to Caesar, I rode off to my new home. Night fell before we finished the journey, and I became lonely and afraid. ‘Do you think she’ll go to bed before we get there?’ I asked Caesar. ‘Oh no!’ he said reassuringly, ‘She’ll stay up for you. When we get out o’ these woods, you’ll see her light shinin’ in the window.’ Presently we did ride out into the clearing, and there, sure enough, was your light. I remember you were waiting at the door, that you put your arms close about me – a tired and bewildered little boy. You had a fire burning in the hearth, a hot supper waiting on the stove. After supper you took me to my new room, heard me say my prayers, and then sat beside me till I fell asleep. Auntie, some day soon God will send for you, to take you to a new home. Don’t fear the summons, the strange journey, or the messenger of death. God can be trusted to do as much for you as you were kind enough to do for me so many years ago. At the end of the road you will find love and a welcome awaiting, and you will be safe in God’s care.”
This is an approach to the church short on doctrine and rules and long on fellowship and encouragement. It may not stop the world from beating down on us in increasingly negative, abusive, and non-affirming ways. But it is an approach filled with power and with grace. It is an approach that will enable us to hold fast to our hope, and to endure with grace and faith – together.