august 23, 2009

Anna Blaedel
First UMC, Osage
August 23, 2009
Psalm 84
Ephesians 6:10-20

This morning’s lectionary texts are about holiness. Righteousness. Holy living and right living. Faithfulness. Kin-dom building and Kin-dom living. Standing for what is good and beautiful. Resisting what destroys. Participating in what builds up. Perfect fodder for a preacher, right?

Which made me think of an email I received from one of you, about a month ago. The email read: “One day God was looking down at Earth and saw all of the rascally behavior that was going on. So, God called an angel and sent the angel to Earth for a time. When the angel returned, the angel told God, “Yes, it is pretty bad down there; 95% are misbehaving and only 5% are not.” God thought for a moment and said, “Maybe I had better send down a second angel to get another opinion.” So God sent another angel to Earth for a visit. When the angel returned, the angel went to God and said, “Yes, it’s true. The Earth is in pretty bad shape; 95% are misbehaving, but 5% are being good.” God wasn’t sure what to do. So, God decided to email the 5% that were good, because God wanted to encourage them and give them a little positive affirmation to keep them going…

Do you know what the e-mail said?

Ok. I was just wondering, because I didn’t get one either."

Let us pray: May the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all of our hearts, be acceptable in your sight, O God, who is strengthening and redeeming…

Holiness. Righteousness. Holy living and right living. Faithfulness. Kin-dom building and Kin-dom living. Standing for what is good and beautiful. Resisting what destroys. Participating in what builds up. It can be dangerous to preach about this as a preacher, because it is too easy to pretend like preachers have it all figured out. It can be dangerous to sing and talk and study and pray about this as people of faith, because it is too easy for “us” to pretend “we’ve” got it all figured out and that it is “them,” whoever “they” are, who need to shape up and learn a lesson and find the truth.

To do this is to miss the meaning entirely. The psalmist and epistle writers teach us: We are each the us and each the they. We are each the 95% rascal and 5% good. We are each beautiful and good, and each in need of cultivating and living out of beauty and goodness. We each dwell already in the house of God, and we each are invited always to find our way back home to the Holy One for refuge and rest. We are each able to restore, and each in need of restoration. We are each in need of kindness, and each able to extend kindness. We each have something to teach, and each have something to learn. We are each powerful beyond our wildest imagination, and each in need of accessing collective power that is far greater than the force of any one individual. We are each, as the writer to the letter to the Ephesian people warns, capable of participating in the work of destruction, of being swept away by the rulers and authorities, the cosmic powers of injustice and forces of destruction, and we are each capable of standing against these forces, of confronting what is harmful and unjust.

These biblical texts are not about distinguishing between “us” and “them,” whoever the “us” and “they” happen to be. To use these pieces of scripture as a battle cry cuts counter to the whole message—for it is the gospel of peace we are to be ready to proclaim.

The biblical writers are not issuing a battle cry, but they are using the language and metaphor prevalent to the time—speaking to people who have been at war with one another, who have been pitting themselves against one another, and who have been neglecting to let the spiritual values forming the core of who they are shape what they do and how they live. The armor of the Emperor, over and against the armor of God. The people of Ephesus would have known Paul’s letter to the people of Rome, and would have heard this text in the context of Romans 12:17-21—“Do not repay anyone evil for evil…If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves…No, but rather, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink…Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good…”

The original intended audience of the epistle to the Ephesians, much like us, now, knew plenty of war. Of destruction and division. The author anticipates excuses from his readers, protests of helplessness in the face of all the forces arrayed against them. Bad economies. Threats of violence. Abuse and oppression. Protests of pragmatism, and self interest, and justification.

The author insists there is no excuse. Beloved community is theirs to build. The goodness and strength of God is theirs to claim. So the author resorts to the common military image of body armor that his audience would have seen on Roman soldiers daily, but in a critical twist, he reinvents the image in a most non-militaristic way. The common parts of armor—belt, breastplate, shield—are assigned to uncommon values: truth, righteousness, faith. The symbol of self-reliance is transformed into a symbol of interdependence—God, self, neighbor, other. The kingdom of Rome is transformed into the kin-dom of God.

To be kin-dom dwellers, to overcome evil with good, to live gospel values of love, compassion, justice, kindness, peace, and beloved community in a world that sometimes seems to reward only fear, distrust, injustice, greed, war, and divided interest groups, this indeed requires some kind of armor. Or rather, some really intentional preparation, each morning, throughout the day, in every interaction, when it comes easily, and when it does not.

Fasten the belt of truth around your waist. Put on the breastplate of righteousness. Take up the shield of faith, with which you might quench all the forces that threaten and destroy. Take the helmet of salvation;, the sword not of the army by of the Spirit. As for shoes for your feet, put on whatever will ready you to proclaim the gospel of peace. So that all of who we are, all of what we do, might build up what is good and beautiful and blessed and true. What is of God.

In Wishful Thinking, Frederick Buechner writes, "If you want to know who you really are as distinct from who you like to think you are, keep an eye on where your feet take you." In Psalm 84, the psalmist writes, “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Creator of all that is beautiful and good! My soul longs, indeed it faints for the house of my God; my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God. Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, O Creator of all, my God, my Guide. Happy are those who live in your house, ever singing your praise.” And, in Ephesians, the epistle writer writes, “Be centered in the strength of God’s power and love. Stand against what is contrary to God’s goodness. Struggle against the rulers, the authorities, the powers of injustice, the forces of destruction. Proclaim the gospel of peace.”

This past week I had a conversation with a friend of mine from seminary about this week’s lectionary readings. This friend is connected with the world of high fashion, a costume designer, the person who picked out my outfits in seminary for job interviews and board of ordination interviews, for parties and social events, and, when I would allow it, for class and meals and trips to the grocery store. I ran some thoughts about this “armor of God” wardrobe, this fashionplate of faith, by my friend, and asked for their thoughts. Specifically, I wondered aloud what the shoes of peace might look like, and whether bare feet might suffice. My friend noted that the author of Ephesians doesn’t commit to any one style of shoes as the most appropriate.
My friend supposed wing-tips or high heeled pumps seemed sufficient, and that even Crocs or flip-flops would do. But, spreading peace is awfully hard work, we mused, and building beloved community, being kin-dom creators and dwellers, living lives of justice, compassion, kindness and connection—this doesn’t come easy, and finally we decided a pair of work boots might be best, perhaps reinforced with steel toes.

I will leave it to you to decide what you put on your feet, what your righteous breastplate might portray, what kind of truth you need wrapped about your waist as a constant reminder. I will leave it to you, each of you, to decide how you are already dwelling in God’s kin-dom here on earth, how you are standing for what is good and beautiful, and how you are resisting forces of destruction, and how you are looking for and finding ways to build up. Remember my note of caution: If can be dangerous to preach about holiness and righteousness because it is too easy to pretend that preachers have it all figured out. And, it can be dangerous to sing and talk and study and pray about holiness and righteousness as people of faith, because it is too easy for “us” to pretend “we’ve” got it all figured out and that it is “them,” whoever “they” are, who need to shape up and learn and lesson and find the truth.

I will, however, close with another email I received, this time twice in one week, by two of you. In this email, you will hear the unknown author trying to distinguish between holy and righteous living, and living that is missing the mark. Between what matters, really, and what does not. Between dominant cultural values, and kin-dom of God values.

God doesn’t care what kind of clothes you have in your closet, but how many people you help clothe.

God doesn’t care what kind of car you drive, but how many people you drive who don’t have transportation. (and, I would add, whether you could be walking or riding your bikes rather than driving)

God doesn’t care the square footage or furnishings in your house, but what kind of hospitality you extend to welcome people, whoever they are, into your home.

God doesn’t care how high your salary might climb, but whether you compromise your character to obtain it.

God doesn’t care what your job title is, but whether your work extends kindness and compassion and beauty.

God doesn’t care how many friends you have, or what your social standing is, but how many people to whom you are a friend, and how you treat the people you are least likely to befriend.

God doesn’t care what neighborhood you live in, but how you treat your neighbors, far and near.

God doesn’t care about the color of your skin, or your gender, or your citizenship status, or your sexual orientation, but about the content of your character.

God doesn’t care why we have turned away from righteous living—extending forgiveness, welcoming the stranger, standing up against injustice, waging peace and caring for creation, but whether we are willing to try again and do it differently.

So. Be strong in the Holy One and in the strength of God’s power and love. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against what is contrary to the kin-dom. Fasten the belts of truth around your waists, put on those breastplates of righteousness, take your shields of faith, and helmets of salvation and swords of the Spirit. Pray. Pick a pair of shoes—be they boots or heels or flip flops or Crocs—that will ready you to proclaim the gospel of peace. And, then, now, together, let’s get to work…May it be so. Amen, and amen.