“Do Not Obey”
I John
4:16b-21
First
Presbyterian
The Reverend
Thomas A. Sweet
December 24,
2009
Christmas Eve
Return to the Sermons and Articles Page
Return to the
Sermons Archives Page
Coming
out of worship last Sunday morning, one of our members said to me in the
greeting line, “The pressure is on you
now, Tom. My young adult children
are coming on Christmas Eve and you’ve got to say something that will reel
them in.” Well, it might not
be exactly the pressure of a surgeon holding someone’s heart in his hands or
an air traffic controller trying to land a plane at JFK or La Guardia or Scott
Norwood lining up for a win-or-lose field goal in the waning seconds of a Super
Bowl, but it does up the ante a little bit.
Of
course, I know that ultimately we ourselves are responsible for our spiritual
and religious lives and how we come to worship often determines the kind of
experience we’ll have. Come
expectantly and there is a good chance that something will happen here that will
move you or motivate you or at least open some doors and windows in you.
Come apathetically and chances are greater that the hour will simply pass
and that will be that. Come with an
“I dare you to say something that matters to me” attitude and I probably
won’t.
Preachers
preach because they have experienced something good or graceful or life-giving
that they attribute at least in part to God and Spirit and gospel and want to
pass it on. So, in that way, good
preaching is invitational. Like
Jesus, a preacher essentially says, “Come
and see. Come and see if what I have
seen and experienced of God and God’s ways for my life also can be good and
true for yours.”
Having
gotten myself off the hook now for being solely responsible for your reaction to
worship, what I want to invite you to see at Christmas 2009 is how expansive,
hopeful, and fulfilling life can be when we do not live in obedience to our
fears. If the primary proclamation
of the Bible can be determined by the sheer number of times it is repeated, then
the main message of scripture is do not fear. That
phrase, or ones similar to it, appears, amazingly, 365 times, once for each day
of the year. We are not being told
never to be scared, not ever to be frightened, not to get alarmed.
Life is sometimes scary.
Even good things, like growing up and accepting new responsibilities or
getting married or venturing a new pathway or perspective, can cause some
trepidation. What the Bible means to
tell us is not to obey our fears, not to live in obedience to them.
Do not allow your fears to determine your beliefs or your courses of
action or your manner of relationships or your life’s directions.
Do not make decisions based on fear.
We
do the One in whose name we gather tonight a huge disservice if we believe he
never was afraid. It cheapens his
journey from manger to cross if we think that Jesus had some special reservoir
of courage that we do not have upon which to draw in troubling or fearful times.
I think it was not one whit less scary for Jesus to face his inner demons
out there in the desert than it is for us to face ours.
I think it was no easier for Jesus to stand up to the heinous and
dehumanizing powers of his day in the name of justice and love of neighbor than
it is for us in ours. I think it was
no less fearful for Jesus to cross the chasms of class, religion, and social
circumstance than it is for us. St.
Irenaeus once said that the glory of God
is a human being fully alive. Jesus
has been considered the glory of God by the church across the years because he
was so fully alive and free. He
refused to live in obedience to his festering fears that constantly were telling
him as ours do us that he was not equal to the task at hand, that he wasn’t
good enough, that he would upset others’ expectations of him if he lived in
conversation with God rather than convention or convenience.
Martin
Luther King admitted to being scared silly whenever he left his house to lead
the protest marches and how the firebombs that were thrown through the windows
of his house almost paralyzed him. But
he determined every day not to obey his fears that would have shut him up and
shut him down but to live in obedience to love manifested as justice,
compassion, hospitality, generosity, joy.
In
the coming year, the Christian community will mark the thirtieth anniversary of
the assassination of Archbishop Oscar Romero of
But,
then, strange as it sounds for a religious man, as if it should have happened
earlier, Christ was born and grew in Romero’s heart and he became one of the
most courageous and eloquent spokespersons the world ever has known in the
struggle for justice and peace until he was killed one morning in March of 1980
as he lifted a communion chalice during Mass.
He knew in his last months that he was a marked man, that his religious
garb no longer afforded him protection from the oligarchy determined not to give
up its life of privilege. He was as
fearful as any of us would be by the threats, but he chose not to live in
obedience to his fears, but in obedience to love.
He became absolutely convinced of the power of love to accomplish its
purposes for he said that if he was killed, he would rise in the Salvadoran
people and, indeed, he did and the people exacted a liberating change in their
society.
What
about you? If Christmas is only the
celebration of the birth of Jesus long ago, then we have robbed Christmas of any
contemporary power and meaning. Then
we have tamed it and restrained it and made a mockery of it.
Christmas is wilder than that. Christmas
is much more a verb than a noun. Christmas
is something that happens in us.
Christmas happens when we make way for Christ to be born anew in the
mangers of our hearts and when our
lives take on more and more of the character of the God revealed in Jesus.
It
is not that we shall never be frightened by the changes we are called on to make
in our thinking and doing as we live more and more in concert with Christ.
In fact, if we are not a little fearful, chances are that we are not
really growing and stretching in the direction of God in any significant way.
But we do not have to obey our fears.
Christ in us, God with us, enables and ennobles us to live beyond our
fears, to live into love.
Many
of our fears are expressed in the language of “what if?”
What if I do not have enough money? What
if I fail? What if I have to live on
my own? What if somebody takes
advantage of my kindness? What if I
lose my job? What if the way I used
to think about God no longer makes sense to me?
What if I disappoint the expectations of others as I live into God’s
truth for me? Fear causes us to
close in and close off, to circle the wagons, to exclude, to grasp and to cling,
to tighten up, to insulate and isolate. Can
you call to mind any ways in which you live in obedience to your fears?
How might your life change if you refused to obey your fears and began
instead to trust God with your life? How
might a church change if it refused to obey its fears and began instead to trust
God?
Here
is the meaning I find in Christmas this year.
It is the story of Jesus the Christ who, according to the words of the
book of Hebrews in the Bible, was like us in every way but who grew into such a
radical trust in God that he did not live in obedience to his fears but in
obedience to love. Christmas is the
invitation for such trust to be born and to grow in us.
Keeping
Christ in Christmas, the concern of a letter to the editor in Wednesday’s
edition of the Post-Journal, has
nothing to do with saying “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Holidays.”
Keeping Christ in Christmas has nothing to do with whether a nativity
scene is permitted on public property. Keeping
Christ in Christmas has nothing to do with whether children are allowed to sing
Christmas carols in school. Keeping
Christ in Christmas has everything to do with whether or not we live in
obedience to our fears because if we do we shall continue to demonize in our
society those who struggle on its periphery in a quest to retain our privilege.
If we live in obedience to our fears, then so much of what passes for
religion becomes self-interest masquerading as piety and will keep us from
serious engagement with the gospel. If
we live in obedience to our fears, then our lives will be much smaller than
otherwise they could be and certainly punier than the glory for which we have
been made.
The
magic of this night is that all of our hopes and all of our fears meet in the
storied birth and life of the one named Jesus the Christ.
Jesus the Christ so trusted God with his life that not even the threat of
death could deter him from living into the largeness and liveliness of love.
Following Jesus the Christ in his indefatigable obedience to love rather
than obeying our fears is the Christmas gift that can renew the life of the
world, and our lives.
As
Jesus did in his life, allow the Christ of God to be born in you.
Let yourself become Barb, a Christ…
Amen.
Copyright
© 2009 First Presbyterian Church