Truth-Telling
Sermon preached by the Reverend Patricia Farris
June 19 - 24, 2005
Let us
pray: Come, Holy Spirit. Bless us this morning with courage to tell
the truth of our lives and to acknowledge our need of you. Bathe us
in the living water of your grace and set us free. Amen.
The theme of our service
this morning is “truth-telling”. It has to do with how
we acknowledge with honesty and openness our real humanness, our need
for God and our longing for new life. And it will lead us into renewal
of our baptismal vows.
Last night I stayed up
too late and watched the Dodgers lose to the White Sox on ESPN. Now,
I could tell you that the Dodger lost because they got a bad call,
Eric Gagne’s out for the season, and Chicago got all the breaks.
Or, I could just tell you the truth and say that the Dodgers played
lousy ball-- for the third night in a row.
For a life-long fan, it’s
not easy to tell the truth about a baseball game, is it? But for sure
it’s hard for us to tell the truth about our lives, about what’s
really going on in our heart of hearts and how we really feel about
ourselves.
John Wesley knew this well,
and so when he would gather his preachers together in annual conference,
he would first ask them: “How is it with your soul?” Before
they could report to him on how many baptisms they’d performed
or how many sermons they’d preached or how many miles they’d
traveled across the connexion, --and don’t mistake me here,
he wanted to know those things, too. He was a task master and he did
have high standards for them and for himself first of all!
But, first, before they
recounted their work and their achievements, first they had to give
an account of the state of their soul. They had to be honest before
God and one another about that which was deepest inside, about their
relationship with God, about the ways they felt close to God and distant
from God, about the ways they’d failed themselves and God, about
how they had hurt others and God. How is it with your soul? And in
that truth-telling, they opened the door to healing, wholeness and
blessing.
I don’t usually encounter
that sort of hunger for honesty and wholeness in people except in
situations of extremity: in the hospital room, by the death-bed, staring
divorce or some kind of addiction in the face. Most of the time, we’re
pretty good at masking the truth about who we really are, afraid that
people and even Jesus wouldn’t much like us if they knew. As
if we can ultimately hide it! As if Jesus would love us any less!
Long ago, a large crowd of people made their way to a mountain to
hear the new teacher, Jesus of Nazareth. These were people who knew
their need of healing. People desperate for some good news. People
who looked up from their day- to-day life and said: there’s
more. There’s something much more I want for my life and for
this world and I believe that Jesus can offer it to me. I believe
that there’s a place for me in God’s new kingdom and I
want to be part of it.
These were people who knew
their need of God, the poor in spirit. People who knew that God had
something much greater in mind for their lives and for the whole creation.
We want to count ourselves among their number this morning.
Long ago the Psalmist
asked: “Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD? And who shall
stand in his holy place?” The song responds: “Those who
have clean hands and pure hearts, who do not lift up their souls to
what is false, and do not swear deceitfully. They will receive blessing
from the LORD, and vindication from the God of their salvation.”
Jesus later put it this way: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for
they will see God”. Blessed are those whose heart is whole, whose
word is true. Blessed are those who have set aside all excuses, all
self-deceit. Blessed are those who can look in the mirror and be at
peace with who they see.
In
his letter to the early church in Rome, the apostle Paul shares some
of his own wrestling with this issue. “What we want to do, we
can’t seem to do and what we don’t want to do, we do”,
he said. He nails it, doesn’t he? “For I do not do the good
I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I
do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within
me.” And it is Paul, of course, so painfully honest about the
sin within himself that he cannot control by his own will or intent,
who teaches us again and again about the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.
The
only way to begin the journey towards arriving in the presence of the
living Lord is to tell ourselves the truth about our lives and about
the state of our soul. We have to trust that Jesus can take it, can
take us as we are and make us whole.
Let’s
think, just for a moment, about that river in which Jesus was baptized,
the Jordan, and what it means for us that he went down into that river
on our behalf. You know, at the time, there were other water purification
rituals that could have been used to teach us about baptism.
There were baths at the entrance to temples and even private ceremonial
baths in the homes of the wealthy. But Jesus was baptized in a river
and that’s important.
As
a child, I loved to swim in swimming pools. I grew up in the Arizona
desert and we didn’t have much in the way of rivers or lakes.
We had swimming pools. And they were clean and the bottom was smooth
and you could see where your feet would land when you stepped in.
But
ponds, lakes, rivers...that’s a whole different thing, as I’m
sure must of you well know! Step into one of those and you step into
God knows what?! Mud, muck, slippery stuff, sharp rocks. And if it’s
a river, the current may be moving along and you better be ready. Jesus
was baptized in a river. He waded into that muck—on our behalf--to
receive the Holy Spirit. He stood firm in that flowing current. And
then he climbed boldly back up the muddy bank, dripping wet, changed,
renewed, transformed, alive, at peace, hungry for justice and truth
and freedom and beauty and love.
You
see, sisters and brothers, all this tells us that this faith of ours
isn’t just for when we’re looking our best and in the safety
and comfort of a beautiful sanctuary or this conference center, well-defended
against anyone finding us out. It’s faith for the truth of our
lives, for every day and every night of our lives. It’s faith
for the most beautiful things and for the ugliest things. It’s
faith for the things that come easy and for the hardest, most challenging
things we face.
It’s
faith for the times of ease and joy, and faith for the times of challenge
and conflict. It’s faith for our celebrations and faith for our
most painful losses. It’s faith with its feet firmly planted in
the muck while its heart is lifted to the highest heaven.
A verse in the beautiful hymn we sang earlier beckons us. “Come,
ye sinners, poor and needy, weak and wounded, sick and sore; Jesus ready
stands to save you, full of pity, love and power…Come ye weary,
heavy laden, lost and ruined by the fall; if you tarry till you’re
better, you will never come at all.”
“If
you tarry till you’re better, you will never come at all.”
Honestly
facing the truth of who we are and still trusting God is a blessing
of the highest order. And so, today as we participate in a time of baptismal
renewal, take a look at the face in the mirror and come, acknowledging
all of who you are and your need for God. Come, telling the whole truth
of who you and come knowing the truth that God loves you as you are.
Come
to feel the water on your forehead, the sign and seal of God’s
presence and power in our lives, still available to us with just as
much potency as ever, with just as much life-changing potential as
ever. Come, beloved daughters and sons, to the waters of new life
and receive the blessing.
For
as you come, God rejoices as much as any loving parent possibly could,
saying “this is my child, my beloved, in you I am well pleased.”
AMEN.
© Patricia E. Farris, 2005. Permission is given for brief quotation
with attribution. All other rights reserved.
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