Monday, November 13, 2017

Sermon for the 23rd Sunday after Pentecost

Preached at Canadochly and Grace on November 12, 2017
Preaching text: Matthew 25:1-13

The end of the world. The second coming. The Day of the Lord. The end of days. It’s a moment of history-yet-to-be that has often captured the imagination of people everywhere. Movies, from disaster films to comedies to religious, have covered the various interpretations of how it will play out. Books, TV shows, have done the same. The script is similar. Something evil and unstoppable comes: zombies, a massive plague, an alien invasion, the anti-Christ, a giant meteor, a Mayan prophecy, whatever, and in its wake come calamity, death, destruction, and (in the case of comedies) wacky hijinks. It never gets old.

It never gets old because there is something visceral and terrifying about the end of the world. The end of all things, at least as we understand it. Those comedic wacky hijinks of the apocalypse comedy are something of a nervous giggle, because deep down we know this is something truly scary and terrifying. We’re afraid. Very afraid.


In fact, many are convinced beyond all doubt that we are living in those end times right here and right now. And the reason why? There’s a lot of scary stuff out there. People are afraid. In fact, it could be claimed quite rightly to be the spirit of this age: fear, trepidation, trembling, worry, anxiety, angst, terror, horror, fear.


We are afraid.


Consider America right now. What are we afraid of? We’re afraid of people who are different: black folk, gay folk, trans folk, immigrant folk, Muslim folk, Jewish folk, atheist folk, crazy Christian folk, rich folk, poor folks, men folk, women folk, conservatives, liberals, Nazis, antiFa, gun-nuts, gun-grabbers, Trump, Hillary, and that’s not even a complete list. We’re afraid of the powers and circumstances of life: big corporations, our government, climate change, nuclear war, economic instability, will I have a job, will I have dinner, will I have healthcare, will I afford healthcare, will I afford retirement, will I afford my rent next month. We’re afraid of disease: AIDS, Ebola, SARS, cancer, etc. We’re afraid we’re not manly enough. We’re afraid of sexual predators. We’re afraid of terrorists. We folks in the church are afraid of empty pews, declining attendance, and budgets in the red. We’re afraid of EVERYTHING.


We’re so afraid, we’re killing ourselves over it. Why is there crime in the inner city? Fear, fear of no opportunities, fear of no future for our urban youth of color. Why are their mass shootings? Fear, fear of irrelevancy, fear of job loss, fear of those people. Why is there an opiod epidemic? Fear, fear of life and all its difficulties. Why does Black Lives Matter march? Fear, the cops are afraid of them and they’re afraid of the cops. Everywhere you look, we are afraid.


No wonder people are so convinced that these are the end times.


We’ve become so afraid, we’re paralyzed. We’re like the deer in headlights often times, not knowing what to do with ourselves in face of all that the world is throwing at us all at once. It’s overwhelming. We’re burned out on it all. Exhausted from being afraid, or wondering what’s around the next corner, because, God knows, they’re be something else tomorrow.


As civilized as we pretend to be, the truth of the matter is we humans really aren’t all that different from the wild animals we evolved from. Their impulse is fear, fear of predators, fear of lack, fear of everything, and while we pretend we are more advanced, it really doesn’t take much to transform us back into the savage, the animalistic, the fearsome groping in the dark for whatever safety we can find.

Proof of this lack of civility is all over the news right now. There's a special election in Alabama and one of the candidates has now been accused of molesting teenagers when he was a man in his 30s. I don't know if he's guilty or not; that hasn't been proven yet. But what is disturbing are some of his supporters, people who are saying things like "I don't care if he's a child molester, at least he's not a...liberal, or a non-Christian, or a whatever." In what universe would that even be a remotely reasonable and rational thing to say about someone so accused? None, except one where fear rules the day.


This is who we are. This is what we are. However, God knows that. And he has the answer to our fears.


Jesus’ parable in our Gospel lesson today is a curious one, because it doesn’t at first seem to be about fear, but that’s precisely what Jesus is addressing here. The metaphor of the bridegroom’s arrival is, of course, pointing to Jesus’ second coming. The return of the Lord. When his arrival is announced, the wise bridesmaids focus on his arrival; the foolish are concerned about their lamps and the lack of their oil. They focus on what they’re afraid of: running out of oil. And they leave just as the bridegroom arrives and then find themselves shut out of the celebration. If only they had remained steadfast, not worried about the oil, and focused instead on the bridegroom.


I can’t help but be reminded here of the story of Hanukkah. During the Maccabean rebellion, where the Jews rose up against their Greek overlords in the centuries between the Old and New Testaments, the rebels took back the temple from the Greeks and rededicated it to God. But they found that there was only enough oil to light the lamps for a single day, not the eight required to purify the temple properly. They burned it anyway, trusting in God to provide, and He did. The oil lasted the 8 days, which is where the modern Festival of Lights comes from.


Jesus, of course, knew this story well and it probably informed his parable. Trust in God, trust in the bridegroom, and fear not. But we have a whole world out there that does not trust, not in God, not in much of anything. How can we change that?


By making God real to people. By making his love and concern real to people. By, to borrow from Amos, making “justice roll down like waters.” By showing them that they matter, that their lives are precious, that they are loved by God because they are loved, truly loved, by CHRISTIANS.


I know for a fact that this works, because I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. My recent medical calamities are nothing new to many of you; you’ve seen me sick before. And yet, you rally to my side every time. I am surrounded every time with this immense cloud of support and love. And I’m not the only one. We do it all the time for one another. It’s second nature to us.


It needs to be second nature for us to do it for them out there too. For many of us, it already is. Keep it up! The world desperately needs what we have in here amongst ourselves. A sense of belonging. A sense of security. A sense that our lives matter and mean something to others. We are valued. We are loved. Christ came to Earth to live, die, and rise again for the sake of each and every one of us, within and without. Those are just words until we make them real to people.

The bridegroom is arriving. That’s cause to celebrate. He’s come to take away our fear. Let’s show the world how. Amen.

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