Loading...Box number three is on it’s way. I got a call from my Uncle John this week. He’s sending me another box of stuff. That will be the third large box he’s sent to me after he downsized from a farm to a retirement community.
I recently decided to clean out my own storage closet and relinquish my collection of old musty stuff I haven’t used in so long. Uncle John is a retired Episcopal priest who serves a small congregation in upstate New York on Sunday mornings. He called to say, “When I meet my maker, the parish administrator has instructions to send you my vestments. Until then, I am sending you another collection of my old musty things I haven’t used in so long.”
My mind immediately flashed forward to Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol-style vision of myself at his age. The ghost of future me, thirty years from now, is calling a loved one to warn them that not only am I sending them my collection of musty stuff I haven’t used, in addition I am sending Uncle John’s collection of musty stuff. The thought chilled me. Am I going to live like Uncle John…..
Examining the kind of stuff we want, have, keep or hide or toss can provide a helpful way of reflection of who we are and an understanding of the company we keep. Do you want to keep company with someone who can let things go or who clings?
Let’s look at the gospel passage about all the stuff people are losing: a sheep, a sinner, a coin. Even though there are plenty of other sheep and sinners and coins to go around, the one that is lost is somehow more valuable when it comes to celebrating than the others.
Why celebrate? Because of the R word: Repentance.
Repentance is the gospel word for saying, “I’m sorry,” and meaning it. Churchy people over the years have turned the word “repentance” into something that feels unachievable to me. Some of my friends have used the word “repentance” so brutally it feels as if when I say, “I’m sorry” then my ability to get lost again is somehow, well, lost — when in fact I can tell you that the things I say I am sorry for don’t go away at all. It’s just that when I say “I am sorry for” [insert my lostness] where the lostness is, right next to it, is forgiveness.
Can we lay a healing blanket over the word “repentance” and let it be what it really is: the acknowledgement that the world is not full of sinless people. The world is full of human people who possess the capacity for sin and for repentance and for forgiveness. The way sin, repentance and forgiveness get all tangled up sometimes makes for dramatic experiences like the one Jeremiah describes today.
In Jeremiah’s experience, God is letting things go; all things: civility, mountains, light from the heavens, people, birds, a fruitful land. All is made desolate. In place of all these things is a hot wind, biting words, and mourning. And a promise to never turn back. That not turning back thing is scary to me because “turning” is the way the word repentance is often defined: as turning away from sin toward God.
God doesn’t turn back from the harsh judgement experienced by Jeremiah. God does provide a complete rescue operation from the circumstances which brought Israel to the decisions which got them tangled up in sin in the first place.
In the rescue mission God decides to get tangled up in sin just like us, by being born of a sinner just like we are. The Incarnation isn’t the cleanest idea I’ve ever heard of, but I understand why God decides that entanglement is the best course of action. How better to provide a way home for someone who lost than to walk with them?
Three years ago I met Tori McClure. You may have read this Louisville native’s book, A Pearl in the Storm, where she describes her quest to row a boat solo across the Atlantic ocean. She succeeded on the second attempt after countless dangers and setbacks.
I felt so enthralled by her story I decided I wanted be just like her, so much so that when she told me the name of her favorite gators I immediately bought a pair. I wanted the same “stuff” she wants.
I used those gators once. Hers are designed for serious bushwhacking and I am strictly a trail runner. I didn’t realize I wasn’t on the same adventure Tori is on. While we do have the same spirit and I feel a kinship with her, I need different “stuff”.
If you have ventured into this room this morning it’s probably because you like this “stuff”. So we’ve decided to keep company together.
We all want the same stuff; we all want to be like Jesus. So we try on the gospel life and look for the right fit for our gospel adventures. With the opportunity to sign up for various ministries on the tables in Gleason Hall we get to ask questions like “will our adventures include joining one of the women’s group or starting a men’s group?”
“Will our adventures include working with children here or elsewhere or reaching out to those in need?”
The “stuff” we share responsibility for helps us identify both who we are and what God’s mission is for us: We have this meeting house for worship and Gleason Hall for fellowship. Board Hall has rooms for education and administration. And perhaps arguably the most important room of all is the kitchen. Last, but not least, we have extensive and beautiful grounds. This “stuff” guides both our self understanding and shows others what God is doing around here. And “stuff” helps guide our decisions when things get musty and need to be refurbished or replaced.
Our ultimate question is what ‘stuff” does God want? What “stuff” will help us fulfill the mission Loving People —Serving People?
When you want to become like someone you get the “stuff” they have. I want God’s “stuff”. And this physical plant is part of God’s “stuff”. This place helps me cultivate the ability to repent. If I can say “I am sorry” I can be like Paul in his letter to Timothy where he describes all the mercy he receives because he is a sinner.
The message of mercy is “stuff” I want. The Annual Campaign is just one of many opportunities for giving: a spirit of generosity is “stuff” I want.
The chance to share the “stuff” God gives me is “stuff” I want and St James serves as a great brokerage for that “stuff”. The only “stuff” God really wants is the sacrificial love of Jesus on the cross of Calvary, which provides the mercy and forgiveness making all the other “stuff” desirable.
