| February 7
Providence, Rhode Island -February 7, 2010
Not all the time, but some of the time there’s some truth to the saying, “the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.” One of the painful snapshots after the earthquake in Haiti is getting the children out. When I was in Cuba I saw a guy who wanted out so badly he braved a makeshift raft across shark infested waters to get to Florida. In 1975, it was getting out of Vietnam. But the helicopters would only hold so many. People everywhere are in situations they want out of. Sooner or later our bodies wear out. As time catches up with us, we can’t do the things we used to do. After awhile you get tired of fighting it and just want out. I know lots of people who want out of their jobs. But they can't quit. Hemmed-in by their debts, counting the days until retirement.
Many others want out of their commitments. Marriage isn’t what they thought it would be. Nor is having kids. So they undo their promises; or try to unhave their kids. At Walmart, they even have a “return bin” for husbands! But like the country song, “It’s cheaper to keep ‘er,” its way too complicated to get out of easily. 50% who got married have headed for the exit. It’s understandable.
Lots of people want out of church. That’s why there are so many different brands. Church rolls are heavy with “formerly active members,” who got their feelings hurt. So church is something they used to do. When our involvement in anything that matters makes us feel worse instead of better, we stop participating. We won't support, pray for, or pitch in with something they want out of. And there are few rituals for exiting church. The institutional needs aim all our efforts at getting ‘em in.
The New Testament is mixed on this. There are some violent exits. In Acts, Ananias and Sapphira keeled over dead for pretense. The Gospel of John is more palatable, except for Judas, who hung himself. The Epistle to the Hebrews says the most about this topic. It was written for Jewish Christians, who made no bones about their desire to quit on Christianity. And neither did the author. She tells her audience in no uncertain terms, there is no second chance for those who have “tasted the heavenly gift and turned their backs.” If you left the early church, "yakkety-yak," don’t come back!
But a few decades later the early church fathers felt that was too severe. So an apocryphal book was written called “The Shepherd of Hermas,” which softened the Hebrews tract somewhat. “The shepherd” allowed as how you can leave and come back...once. But none after that. There are no biblical liturgies for people to leave the church. Just -- if you do leave, then don’t bother to come back! Modern churches have at least seen wisdom in developing the 3 year rotation system, to allow for laity to make a gracious exit.
But there’s no rotation system for preachers. They just give them the ol’ boot. That’s why most of my colleagues either have already or else can’t wait to get out. Not everybody can be so fortunate to land in a church like this. So they use humor to hide the pain. “One day I’ll be outa this Baptist Church. Then I can be a Christian!” But everywhere you look, somebody's wanting out of something. And the church is not exempt.
And that's why St. Paul’s letter to his favorite church at Philippi is so amazing. If anybody had reason to leave he did. But there’s no indication that he ever looked for the exit. “Friends, I don't want ya’ll to shed any tears over me. I appreciate the nice things you sent. The blanket is warm and the brownies were tasty. But I'm not trying to get outa here. All that’s happened to me has served to advance the gospel. I’m in jail because of my commitment to Christ.” Paul continues, “Every preacher has opponents. They heard I was in trouble, and they accelerated their activity. But I want you to know that even in the rivalry, they’re preaching Christ and that makes me glad! I appreciate your prayers and I'll be coming to see you soon. If I had my way, I'd rather go and be with Christ; that's far better. But there's still work to be done and I want to keep hearing good things about you. Encourage each other. I count it a blessing it is to suffer for Christ.” What a warrior! Paul is no whiner, “Somebody get me outa here!” He never reached for the doorknob. No banging on the bars with his tin cup. Have you ever seen anybody in jail who didn’t want out?
And then there’s ol’ Geronimo. He wanted out! A native American freedom fighter, finally captured by the U.S. Cavalry and locked up in prison at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. Something wild and free had been caged. He wanted out so badly they say he bent the bars of his cell door in the shape of a pear! Now that's a prisoner I can understand.
So why doesn't Paul bend the bars? Oodles of preachers have been trapped like that and they got out, one way or another. A long time ago we sang “Are Ye Able?” Of course we’re able! Can you drink from the cup of which I drank? Yeah we drank the cup. You go forward, fill out a little card and think what it must be like to be a preacher. Mercy! The dreams some of us had about saving the world!
I almost got fired in my first church in Indiana, because one of the lifetime deacons was threatened by my seminary liberalism. I had no more sense than to try out stuff I learned in class on them on Sunday mornings. That's when I saw the need for a three-year rotation. He tried to get rid of us but didn’t "have the votes" to git'er done. But that’s what it’s like when you drink the cup of Christ. Stepping on one church landmine after another! In Arizona days I stepped on one, standing up for our female associate in ministry. In Alabama I was threatened to have a cross burned in my yard for preaching about Martin Luther King. It’s always something. So I moved back to DC, where the air was a little freer. And kept drinking from the cup. After ten years in Silver Spring, I stepped on the fewest land mines. But then we went west, where I endured some dark days up in Portland, Oregon. They didn't like me and I didn't like them, so I got out. And now back to New England. And I still drink from the cup. But I don’t guzzle it anymore. Early-on I guzzled. After getting choked on it a few times, you learn to sip it.
42 years sipping from the cup, and one day the sipping will be over. In all those years in the four corners of this country, did I ever look for the exit? I wouldn’t be honest if I said no. But as far as I can tell Paul never did. What kept him from bolting for the door? He had every reason to do so.
You have to be at this awhile to realize the promise of ministry gets lost in the doing of it. Not when you deviate from ministry but while you’re actively involved in it. When the Magi came to Bethlehem, they wanted to know “Where is he who was born king of the Jews? We have come to worship him.” But before the dust settled, vultures were swirling over the graves of the little boy babies two years and under, whom Herod had slaughtered. That’s not what they wanted! They just wanted to worship.
I swear I can't understand Paul. Why doesn't he just get out? Stuck in jail. His church gave him fits at Corinth. Why doesn't he just get out? But as far as I can tell, quitting never crosses his mind. “I‘ve been called to preach the gospel of Christ. Now it's very frustrating, and you stumble sometimes. But if you’re asking me to change all the church conflicts and jail – for the life of some folks I see who get up in the morning with three questions: “What shall we eat, what shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed?” Nah! Paul knew how to thank God for a calling that’s more overarching than how he felt about it on any given day. “Paul was a preacher,” and all that comes with it – like anything else -- blessings and junk.
But before you think about leaving anything, you better have a place to go. When Jesus disappointed the Galileans, everybody was leaving because he wasn’t the kind of Messiah they’re looking for. You can’t please ‘em all, right? So he turned to his disciples with perhaps the most poignant question in the scriptures: “Are ya’ll looking for the exit too?” And ol' Peter said, “Lord where else can we go? You’re the one with the words of eternal life.”
Providence Prayers (2-7-10)
It seems like to fully live there are also lots of regrets. Forgive us for doing so little with so much. And as we pray for ourselves, let Thy presence fill those homes where death has come; and Thy wisdom fall like gentle rain on the parched souls of the bewildered; Thy healing warmth bless those who are sick or afflicted; and Thy joy overwhelm the melancholy of those who’ve forgotten how to laugh. Shape Thy grace around our inmost needs, that we can’t even identify, much less describe.
As Thy “flawed beings of light,” save us from believing the beautiful world we live in belongs to us, or that the grotesque one is the only one there is. Neither are true. May our worship today open our eyes to a vision of the cross, by which the two worlds are united, and by the spirit of resurrection, in which we are promised that the beautiful world will outlast the broken one. In the name of Jesus who makes it possible, we pray. Amen.
Back |
