Thursday, August 16, 2007

Here's my draft of the ordination sermon


Hebrews 11:29 - 12:2 . 29 By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as if it were dry land, but when the Egyptians attempted to do so they were drowned. 30 By faith the walls of Jericho fell after they had been encircled for seven days. 31 By faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish with those who were disobedient, because she had received the spies in peace. 32 And what more should I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets-- 33who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions,34 quenched raging fire, escaped the edge of the sword, won strength out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. 35 Women received their dead by resurrection. Others were tortured, refusing to accept release, in order to obtain a better resurrection. 36 Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. 37 They were stoned to death, they were sawn in two, they were killed by the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, tormented-- 38 of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground. 39 Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, 40 since God had provided something better so that they would not, apart from us, be made perfect. NRS Hebrews 12:1 Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us,2 looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.


I went to the ocean, the Atlantic, in North Carolina, and I saw the waves crashing into the thin ribbon of sandy beach with loud surges , withdrawing tons of water along with shell and sand. The sight was so fierce, the wind and waves deafening, the coastline so fragile. I thought to myself, I asked, “how long has this been going on?” Millions of years. I could see why some people only want the earth to be 6000 years old: they want a manageable figure. When I think that this has been the way it's always been at the land/ocean boundary for uncountable years, I feel very small and insignificant. I have no control. I have no chance of making a mark. I can not stand against the immense power of the sea.

I walked into the surf and the waves beat me back. One after another they proclaimed their intent to knock me down and then, sinisterly drag me out beyond my depth. If I were to carry something out there and not hold tight, the waves would wring it from me and I'd never recover it. The sea has swallowed people and ships and even cities – where the coast is eroded or large tsunamis come. This has been going on for a long time.

In scripture the ocean symbolizes chaos. The writers of scripture reflected a fear of the sea. In the sea Leviathan prowls swallowing all who venture out. Only God can tame Leviathan. The humor of the book of Jonah is that an Israelite seeks refuge in going out to sea. The covenant with Abraham is after all, to inherit the land, not the sea. Solomon builds a navy, but when it disappears no one misses it. There's no lament psalm lamenting the loss of a single ship. The ocean is chaos and it's best to stay away.

We can think of our text today as a description of how the Israelites faced chaos: By faith. Not that faith was an instrument they used, an ingredient of their success, like some kind of incantation. The force of the Greek word here signifies more that it was “because of faith.” That is: faith impelled them into the chaos. Their natural instinct is to stay on land, but faith impels them into the waves. They step into the waves and, incredibly, the waves give way. Faith makes a path through the chaos.

The Egyptians face this chaos as well. They have the best technology. They are masters of war and strategy. They are experts in wisdom and organization. They are well fed and proud. They are confident; they don't know defeat or fear. The Egyptians march straight into the sea. The waves encircle them. The sand sinks under them and bogs them down. They flail and lash at the waves. Soon the waves they were attacking lay siege on them instead. And they are no more. They were impelled into the sea by their own sense of mastery and confidence, and the chaos has vanquished them. Leviathan swallowed them whole.

What is this faith the writer to the Hebrews talks about, this faith that walks into chaos – not blindly into chaos, unaware, but walking into chaos and amazingly finding land to stand on? This is not a faith we manufacture, but is the gift of the Holy Spirit. It is the faith of Jesus, Faith's beginning and perfection. Jesus' life is the living example of God's approach to chaos. In Jesus faith was crafted from the beginning of the world, and it is his faith that orders and sustains all creation. This is the faith that the Holy Spirit worked in humanity from the beginning: from Abel to Abraham to Moses to us; it leads through the reality of the people of Israel ascendant and Israel in exile; it leads through the reality of the Cross and Death and Resurrection. Faith sees these realities for what they are: temporary, created, exercising power through fear of death, and manipulating people through the fear of scarcity. Faith triumphs over these things, and grows and thrives in Jesus, from first to last.

On our own, acting as if we were our own cause, we drown in the chaos of the world. Even if our intentions are impeccable, filled with high motive, without the faith of Jesus as our motivating force, our efforts come to nothing. We look to him, unafraid despite the threat of chaos, knowing that in him we stand on dry land. This is our calling: to walk with Jesus on the sea. We can't believe that we could do such a thing, and we struggle. We live in a world that is confident that it subdues chaos by its own power. We are surrounded by a world that wants to tell a story about human capacity. We master the planet and ourselves. We are extolled with tales of self-reliance, the "can do" spirit. To ask for help is to be weak. The world lauds unilateral action. And so we are easily distracted by the glamor of it: how strong and heroic it seems. It is the way of the Egyptian army. It is an attractive narrative that has found a home with world powers throughout history: Persia, Greece, Rome, the Crusades, Spain, Britain, and so on – all were in love with their own expertise. All claimed that they could defeat chaos, only to sink in their own pretensions. As individuals we face that same temptation – to claim autonomy as our freedom, to believe we've earned it through our own expertise. We face it in our church and our jobs and our relationships – unaware that our autonomous freedom is no more effective than the Egyptian army in fighting chaos.

Hebrews tells us that we're partners with each other and partners with Christ. We are partners with believers in all time, connected in faith that follows Christ, that rests in Christ from the beginning and is nourished and brought to completion in him. We are surrounded by a cloud of believers who witness, throughout all time, the triumph of the faith of Jesus and the defeat of chaos. We are in the Church that Christ has called together. We are called from pursuing our own ends, our own safety, and we are called to run this race set by Christ. This race runs right though chaos. We are called from the beach into the crashing waves. We are called to run, not to stand and do nothing. As Barth says, “do something. Don't practice doing nothing under the guise of a so called prudence. Do something, even if correction and forgiveness are needed in the doing.” The prudence of doing nothing gives the illusion of competence: that our autonomy is working. But this is not running the race.

We do not run this race alone. Just as Hebrews was addressed to the Church and spoken aloud to those assembled, so it can not be heard and acted out alone, as if all that were required of faith was just ourselves sitting alone in our studies. We are called, like the Hebrews, to endure. To not cease in hospitality; to not cease aiding those in prison; to not cease upholding and helping each other in love. This is the faith that Jesus has pioneered and perfected for us. The Holy Spirit has planted it in our hearts, and grows it and nurtures it. It is the faith that impels us in Christ to walk into the sea. It is in this faith that we discover that the sea that we run on is like dry land. Leviathan does not swallow us, and we inherit life in God, undiminished in generosity, triumphant over the fear of death, given to us in God's grace.

2 comments:

Gaye Dimmick said...

I would ordain you if I were on the committee!

Joe said...

Freddy - that is a great sermon! I don't know if it hit me in the face as much as your award winning sermon, but it was awesome. More poetic - though, and deep, real deep. One I could read again and again, and if it were a piece of art I would hang it on my wall. Beautiful images, and beautiful brush strokes of sentances. I really loved reading it.
And sorry I missed you last Friday, we were at Sara's parent's house in NC. Give me a call soon though, I would love to hear about the hospital.