Sunday's sermon

 

In praise of Doubting

       I’ read a book once by R. Scott Bakker that was called The Darkness That Comes Before.

 

It is a fantasy book, set in a made-up world full of as many faiths and cults and religions as our own world.

       One of the characters, a sorcerer who most of the religions both feared and condemned, is thinking about “religion”. He thinks most religions carry “a plague whose primary symptom is CERTAINTY.”

       The passage continues: “How the God could be equated with the absence of hesitation was something Ach-a-mi-an had never understood. After all, what was the God but the mystery that burdened them all? What was hesitation but a dwelling-within this mystery?”

      

       For my money, there is something very profound in those musing. I have come to believe that much that passes for “religion” in our time indeed carries “a plague whose primary symptom is Certainty.”

       Fundamentalism is alive and well and gaining strength around the globe. Obviously, the Islamic Fundamentalists worry many people, for example,

    But Fundamentalism is much closer to home.

       Tim LaHay, who is the co-author of the best selling “Left Behind Series”—books about the end of time that, in my mind, totally misinterpret Christian thinking about “last things”—was interviewed on CNN after a tsunami a few years back that caused such utter devastation in the Pacific. Mr. LaHay, claiming to be speaking for the Christian Faith, said that the tsunami was “not a bad thing” because it shows us how the end is near and the rapture is coming.

       Such “certainty” in the face of unspeakable human suffering is, to me, part of the plague of Fundamentalism. When someone—of whatever faith—claims to have a franchise on Truth, or to know exactly what God knows, I become deeply worried. Our God is recorded in the book of Isaiah as saying to the prophet—“My ways are not your ways and my thoughts are not your thoughts.”

       It is time some part of the church reclaimed and celebrated “doubt” and “hesitancy” as a proper response to the mystery of God. “Certainty” is a symptom of the plague of Fundamentalism that can only divide and destroy us. Doubt and Hesitancy can lead us deeper and deeper into the mystery of God.

 

       Thomas is the patron saint of Doubters, God bless him.

       DOUBT is not the opposite of FAITH—it is the “possibility” of Faith. Those who doubt are open to seeking and being sought by the mystery that is God. Those who are “certain” have no seeking to do, no wondering to wonder, no journey to take. Those who are “certain” are stuck just where they are and their very “certainty” limits the mystery of God.

      

 

Doubt requires courage—Thomas wasn’t hiding in the upper room with the other disciples, he was out somewhere, hopeful and courageous, unwilling to be locked away in fear and un-certainty.

I once did a class on the creed—I said, how many people here agree with the first statement of the Creed, “I believe in God” and four hands out of twelve went up….I realized there was something there to work with.

  And Thomas’ doubt led him to profound and deep faith when he exclaims, ‘my Lord and my God!”

       The “doubting Thomas” became the “Believing Thomas.” So should we all eventually. Amen.

I don't understand the stats

Last month my blog got 5496 views.

So far this month--12 days in--I've gotten 473 views.

I don't understand the difference.

Maybe I shouldn't look at the stats.

That would help my misunderstanding.

But I am, by nature, curious.

So I look.

I just don't understand,

Shalom, Jim 

Sunday's sermon

In praise of Doubting

       I’ read a book once by R. Scott Bakker that was called The Darkness That Comes Before.

 

It is a fantasy book, set in a made-up world full of as many faiths and cults and religions as our own world.

       One of the characters, a sorcerer who most of the religions both fear and condemn, is thinking about “religion”. He thinks most religions carry “a plague whose primary symptom is CERTAINTY.”

       The passage continues: “How the God could be equated with the absence of hesitation was something Ach-a-mi-an had never understood. After all, what was the God but the mystery that burdened them all? What was hesitation but a dwelling-within this mystery?”

      

       For my money, there is something very profound in those musing. I have come to believe that much that passes for “religion” in our time indeed carries “a plague whose primary symptom is Certainty.”

       Fundamentalism is alive and well and gaining strength around the globe. Obviously, the Islamic Fundamentalists worry many people, for example,

    But Fundamentalism is much closer to home.

       Tim LaHay, who is the co-author of the best selling “Left Behind Series”—books about the end of time that, in my mind, totally misinterpret Christian thinking about “last things”—was interviewed on CNN after a tsunami a few years back that caused such utter devastation in the Pacific. Mr. LaHay, claiming to be speaking for the Christian Faith, said that the tsunami was “not a bad thing” because it shows us how the end is near and the rapture is coming.

       Such “certainty” in the face of unspeakable human suffering is, to me, part of the plague of Fundamentalism. When someone—of whatever faith—claims to have a franchise on Truth, or to know exactly what God knows, I become deeply worried. Our God is recorded in the book of Isaiah as saying to the prophet—“My ways are not your ways and my thoughts are not your thoughts.”

       It is time some part of the church reclaimed and celebrated “doubt” and “hesitancy” as a proper response to the mystery of God. “Certainty” is a symptom of the plague of Fundamentalism that can only divide and destroy us. Doubt and Hesitancy can lead us deeper and deeper into the mystery of God.

 

       Thomas is the patron saint of Doubters, God bless him.

       DOUBT is not the opposite of FAITH—it is the “possibility” of Faith. Those who doubt are open to seeking and being sought by the mystery that is God. Those who are “certain” have no seeking to do, no wondering to wonder, no journey to take. Those who are “certain” are stuck just where they are and their very “certainty” limits the mystery of God.

      

 

Doubt requires courage—Thomas wasn’t hiding in the upper room with the other disciples, he was out somewhere, hopeful and courageous, unwilling to be locked away in fear and un-certainty.

I once did a class on the creed—I said, how many people here agree with the first statement of the Creed, “I believe in God” and four hands out of twelve went up….I realized there was something there to work with.

  And Thomas’ doubt led him to profound and deep faith when he exclaims, ‘my Lord and my God!”

       The “doubting Thomas” became the “Believing Thomas.” So should we all eventually. Amen.

 

A great Easter

Hope you had a great Easter or Passover or Ramadan. Which ever you celebrate. Or if you are an agnostic, just a pleasant April Sunday.

We had a wonderful day.

Mimi and Tim came on Friday--but Bern and I had Eleanor, our six year old grand-daughter from last Tuesday. She is so smart and funny, it's great to have her around.

Josh and Cathy and their 3 kids came on Saturday and left yesterday to go back to Baltimore.

Plus, three old friends--John, Jack and Sherry--came to dinner.

That was 13 people--not an unlucky number for a meal.

John and I go back to college and Jack and Sherry have been our friends since we arrived in CT.

A good time was had by all.

Tegan and Eleanor bonded so well and spent many hours together, digging in our back yard.

What a joyous Easter.

 

Easter Sermon

 

Dying is an astonishing thing.

       And, as far as I know or can tell, the only living creatures on this planet who “know” they are going to die are human beings, like you and me. Our dog, Brigit, God bless her, has no idea she is going to die someday.

       But you do know, don’t you…I know you do…somewhere in the back of your mind…that you’re going to die? You do know that, don’t you? Sooner or later, in one way or another, you will say your last words, take your last breath and shuffle off this mortal coil….

       Just like that….Here today, gone tomorrow.

       Each of us will, some day or another, ‘kick the bucket’, ‘buy the farm’, ‘pass away’, ‘exit the stage’,  die.

       I’m 75 old—older than I ever imagined being, by the way—and it was ten years or so ago in December when I finally admitted to myself that I am mortal, that I will die.

       When I turned onto exit 3 of Interstate 91, going to the Episcopal Church at Yale to celebrate a Eucharist and realized that the rain back up on the Interstate was black ice on the exit, I knew, in my heart, I was about to die. It was a moment I will never forget. The car started sliding out of control as soon as I hit the ice, and as I was spinning around in a 360 degree arc, I had two thoughts:

       The first thought was, much more calmly than I ever imagined it would be, simply this: I AM ABOUT TO DIE.

       The second thought followed hard on the first one, because things were happening very quickly…that thought was this: I’M ABOUT TO MESS UP CHRISTMAS FOR A LOT OF PEOPLE THIS YEAR….

 

       Obviously, I didn’t die. And, beyond the two plates in my left arm that gave me some impressive scars, I’m long ago back to ‘normal’—though more people that you might think have commented that what is ‘normal’ to me is up for grabs….

 

       Herbert Hoover, the only president we’ve ever had who was known for not ‘saying much’, was stopped as he came out of church one Sunday by a reporter who asked, “Mr. President, what did the preacher talk about today?”

       Hoover said, simply, “Sin.”

       The reporter asked what the preacher said about sin and the President replied, “He’s agin’ it….”

 

       That’s what I have to say about dying. “I’m agin’ it.”

       I’ve lost some dear, lovely friends in the past year because they died. And “I’m agin’ it.”

       But there it is, waiting for us somewhere down the road—death.

 

       Jesus died.

       He died a horrible death—suffocation is what killed people who were crucified. The loss of blood and the nails and even the beating before that wasn’t what killed him. He died because, hanging on a cross, his diaphragm could no longer push air out of his lungs and he suffocated to death. Sometimes the executioners would break the legs of those being crucified to make sure death would come more quickly since the victim couldn’t hold himself up and make his diaphragm work.

 

       This is obviously not the Easter Sermon you came to hear. I’ve said nothing cheery yet.

       But there is this—after Jesus died…died as all of us will…--after that and after he was sealed in a tomb, he simply wasn’t dead anymore. In an instant that must have rocked the universe, he was alive again…and forever.

       That’s the Easter message: Life conquers Death.

       That’s what we should all carry in our hearts—today and always.

       LIFE CONQUERS DEATH.

       No matter what befalls us—life conquers death.

       No matter how dark the day is—life conquers death.

       No matter how things fall apart—life conquers death.

       Now and forever and forever—life conquers death.

       That is my Easter message: Life Conquers Death.

       Alleluia, he is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia.

       Amen and Amen.

       Joyful Easter to you all.