August 24, 2003:

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-25; Psalm 16 ; Ephesians 5:21-33; John 6:60-69

In the 1930s, times were difficult with the Great Depression on. Sometimes people had to peddle apples in the roads just to earn a few pennies. There was not a lot to eat. With the approach of Christmas in the fall of 1933, one man purchased a small roll of gold wrapping paper so at least the wrapping paper would be special that Christmas. He told his 5-year-old daughter about the paper and her eyes lit up with excitement. “Can I see it, please?” she begged. So he showed her the small role of golden wrapping paper. She touched it with her little hands, and it was smooth to her touch. It glistened brilliantly in the light.

A few days later, the little girl presented a small, tattered box to the father upon his return from helping at the soup kitchen. The golden paper wrapped the small box. He looked over at the table and most of the small roll had been used. Immediately the Dad became angry, “Honey, why did you use this paper? It is expensive and I wanted to use it at Christmas!”

“But Daddy, I wanted to make you a present because I love you so much!” The Dad’s anger lessened. “Okay, sweetheart, that’s okay, I understand.”

So the Dad opened the box. There was so much tape on the paper, he had to tear the golden wrapping paper, but, with the excitement in his daughter’s eyes, he did not express his unhappiness about the paper being ruined.

He opened the box, but to his dismay, there was nothing inside! Now he became obviously angry at his daughter. “Honey, you have simply wasted this paper. There is nothing in the box!” His daughter began to cry because she sensed her father’s anger.

“But Daddy, since I had no money, I decided to put my kisses in it for you. I blew kisses in the little box until it was so full I could not get another inside.” His daughter looked up at him with tears streaming down her face.

“Oh sweetheart, it is okay. No it is more than okay, I cannot imagine a more wonderful gift than a box wrapped with the golden wrapping paper, full of your kisses.” He wrapped his large arms around her and gave her the longest hug he ever had.

A few days later, a tragic accident took the life of that little girl. Of course, the Dad was very hurt and missed his daughter terribly. People heard about the little box full of kisses from the daughter, and how he kept it by his bedside. Whenever he was discouraged during the time of the Great Depression, whenever he was not sure what his life meant, or whether he could go on, he took the little box, lifted its cover, and took one of those little kisses from his daughter.

Years later, when the Depression had lifted and the Dad became a wealthy businessman, his most precious possession was that little tattered box with the torn golden wrapping paper.

 

I once saw a fellow riding a unicycle on campus at Augsburg. Now I know just enough physics to be dangerous, but unicycles should not work. Bumblebees shouldn’t be able to fly, hummingbirds should not be able to take nector from a flower while flying in place, and unicycles should not work.

But this wasn’t just a fellow on a unicycle, he rubbed the physics of riding a unicycle in our face by reading a book at the same time. I felt like asking him, “Do leap tall buildings at a single bound?” or “Can you play a guitar when it is behind you on your back?” “Which you do you enjoy more, reading the book or riding the unicycle?”

I would have been fine with one of those tall bicycles, you know the kind with a big wheel and a little wheel, or with a tricycle. But one wheel? The other day I saw a program about a one-wheel motorcycle. The motor and the rider are inside the wheel and he leans when he wants to go one way or another. I didn’t hear anything about brakes—and I am not sure I want do! I am sure I will have bad dreams about that one-wheeled motorcycle.

Recent events have pressed on us as never before issues of how we make decisions about what is true and what is wise, as Christians and as members of the Episcopal Church. For all our many problems, we are not a boring church. We make lots of mistakes and misunderstood a lot, but we engage life and try to make sense of our lives, prayer book in one hand and Bible in the other, brain hopefully still in gear.

Covenants

The ancient Israelites of today’s lesson are an illustration of struggling as a community to get it right. Much of the history of Israel, at least that part that's shown to us in the Old Testament, is a constant saga of the people falling away from following the Lord. Israel had a series of prophets who often called the people back to the way of the Lord when they would stray. Joshua was one of the more important prophets. One day when he was troubled about something—we don't know what—he called all the leaders of the tribes of Israel together and began to preach. He reminded them of all that God had done for them. In the part of the lesson that precedes today's passage, Joshua reviews the founding of the people under Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He reminds them how God brought the people out of slavery in Egypt and brought them to the promised.

A covenant is a promise or a contract between several people. It carries with it obligations. Just as the Israelis had requirements for following God, all of life, even today, has requirements. If you join a club, you are expected to agree to follow the club's rules as a condition of continuing membership. Apartment buildings have by-laws. And if you don't follow them, you risk being thrown out. Most people, when they buy a car, sign a contract to pay back a loan, or to make regular lease payments. Stop the payments and you lose your car.

When the times were challenging, in other words, and when new situations had to be confronted, what the covenant community does is gather its wisest, most esteemed leaders in order to sort things through. The idea of gathering the elders to make decisions, in light of tradition and the covenant relationship, in other words, goes a long ways back.

Obligations

Life comes with obligations. No one can escape them. But some obligations are easier than others. And sometimes our perception of obligations changes over time.

On Friday I happened to be over at Park Nicollet Clinic with Carmen. I was in the waiting room and noticed a Mom and two children on the other side. The receptionist came out and asked which of the two children wanted to go first. I think they must have been there for innoculations. The Mom looked at the little girl and said, “Who wants to go first?” The little girl looked at her Mom, then at the waiting receptionist, then at the room. She knew something was up and she wasn’t sure she liked the looks of it. So she emphatically pointed at her brother, “I want Charlie to go first!!” We’re all like that; we’re in favor of obligations, but we often want the other person to go first. Sometimes when the churches are just beginning to reach a consensus to change a judgment, each church wants the other to go first. The Episcopal Church has gone first.

St. Paul's letter to the Ephesians takes up some obligations that he understands wives and husbands have. Many people today find words such as "obey" or "submit" when talking about husbands and wives to be offensive. Most wedding ceremonies no longer ask the bride to promise to obey her husband. People sometimes get riled about the way St. Paul expresses the wife’s obligations without paying a lot of attention to the demanding expression of the husband’s obligations in the second part. On the part of both the husband and the wife.

But there is a larger issue. How shall we handle sections of Scripture that rub us the wrong way? Can we with a Christian face decide to ignore Scripture on issues of faith and morals? Can we indeed contemplate such? The first response is that we read most of Scripture every three years because we need to hear Scripture and perhaps what we most need to hear is what we like least. The reason that we have a lectionary is so that we cannot live with our favorite passages and ignore those we don’t. In making the Christian covenant, we covenant to attend to all of Scripture.

Sola Scriptura and Frank Sinatra Christianity

Some Christians claim to live by Sola Scriptura, the doctrine that everything is decided by scripture alone. Sounds right. But I would suggest that sola scripture is the unicycle of Christian experience. Unicycles shouldn’t work and neither does scripture alone. If we take that approach, then we wind up with as many truths as there are Christians. Sola Scriptura gets us Frank Sinatra Christianity—you know, “I did it my way.” I didn't tell you earlier that the fellow on the unicycle did fall off and sustained a nasty cut.

The theme of all three scripture lessons for today is the necessity for us to live in covenant relationship. We’re not in this alone. Of all the Christians who have ever lived, we’re not likely to get it right while everyone missed it. Can we think of a way to handle growth and change in the faith that makes sense? Sola Scriptura means we think we can interpret Scripture without reference to all those who went before. All the councils, the bishops, the great Christian writers, we ignore?

In the Anglican tradition, we conceive of Scripture as the biggest wheel, tradition as the second biggest wheel, and reason as the smallest. In principle, we can reason together and challenge traditions such as clerical celibacy. A changing tradition over time can overturn, with consensus, parts of Scripture that that we judge mistaken. After all, who here would defend the stoning of gay people or adulterers? But reason remains the small wheel and Scripture the large wheel. Such overturnings should be rare and reached by wide consensus. We confess that when the assembled bishops have gathered they—in consultation with the wider church—are led by the Holy Spirit.

There are times when we think it is just too much trouble, or too dangerous, or perhaps just not worth the effort, to try and make sense of new issues as they come along. It’s hard work. Jesus experienced the same thing in today's Gospel. He was beginning to attract many followers. Some were more dedicated than others. Some said, "This is too hard a teaching," and no longer followed him. But his disciples stayed with him. Because they believed that Jesus was sent from God as no other. Peter, as he often does, asks the pertinent question, “Lord to whom shall we go?” Of course, the answer is Christ. But let's rework the question to, “Lord, how shall we deal with current issues?” I think Jesus would have said, “I send my Spirit to be with you and guide you as you meet in prayerful consultation.” Remember, Scripture is the large wheel, tradition, the medium sized wheel, and reason the smallest. We have the promise of Jesus that he will be with as we make the journey, confront new situations, and come to new judgments.

A Box Full of Kisses from the Past

So you see church tradition, with all the apostles, church fathers, maryters and saints who went before us, with the wisest and most loving of those among we nominate as overseers or bishops, are like the box of kisses from our opening story. In the story, whenever the Dad was discouraged, he would open the box of kisses from his daughter. It was truly a Gold-wrapped box—a God-wrapped box—a treasure from which he could draw. Tradition and the elders among us constitute just such a treasure, so that we can draw upon that treasure as we interpret Scripture for today--especially in the face of the most difficult decisions. The days ahead may be challenging, but that box of kisses will always be there.