
Sermon Trinity XVIII Buechner
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
All Saints' Episcopal Church, Thomasville
Trinity 18, 2007
"Pour down upon us the abundance of thy mercy, forgiving us those things whereof our conscience is afraid." (Today's Collect)
I will stand upon my watch, and set me upon the tower, and will watch to see what He will say unto me" (Habakkuk 1)
Anyone who's frequented a half-way decent bookstore recently, could not help but notice the proliferation of volumes being produced by authors who for the most part - even under the most charitable of circumstances - might be described as having some sort of grudge against Christianity. And yet, if one begins to peruse just about any of these volumes, the fact that the authors almost always have mistaken or skewered views regarding Christ's Church couldn't be more clear.
I've mentioned Christopher Hitchens for instance, a writer I normally admire. One wonders how someone as intelligent and widely read as he, would continue to critique the Church as if he'd never read any farther than the first chapter of John's gospel. I attempted in the newsletter this month to write something about his latest volley of slings and arrows hurled at Mother Teresa of all people - which of course showed nothing but his ignorance of how for centuries, the finest Christian men and women (not to mention some of our Church's most notable saints) have felt totally alone and abandoned by God, not just for weeks and months but even for years at a time.
His criticisms of her - precisely along the lines made famous by Karl Marx (Religion is the opiate of the people) manifests the fallacy of how those who are ignorant of Christianity and the ways of the Holy Spirit, believe that you or I or anyone can conjure up warm fuzzy feelings from God at the drop of a hat. They fail to understand how it is God who calls us into fellowship with Him. He covenants with us. Even the '79 BCP contains an egregious collect about we who are God’s creatures, call God the Creator into covenant with us.
Instead, God acts upon us, whenever, wherever, and however He decides. And it is only our shortsightedness or lack of faith which makes us believe that during those dry times that God would have abandoned us. Jesus told us over and over that if Satan had hurled his strongest barbs at the Son of God, why he would not do the same with those of us who have become part of His Body the Church.
Remember how in the wilderness the Tempter came to Jesus and said "IF you are the Son of God", and there is not one of us who hasn't heard him whisper to us, "IF you are a child of God..."
In this morning's collect we make what might be considered a very strange petition: "Pour down upon us the abundance of thy mercy, forgiving us those things whereof our conscience is afraid." We might at first wonder why we would ask God to forgive our conscience, especially when many of us consider (quite rightly most of the time), our conscience to be how we primarily hear God.
And yet we have the perfect example of why we need to repent of such a thing in the opening sentence of the Epistle with Habakkuk's cry of frustration: "O Lord, how long shall I cry, and thou wilt not hear! Even cry unto thee 'Violence', and thou wilt not save." How long shall I cry, and thou wilt not hear. That could quite easily have been the cry on more than one occasion of Mother Teresa. It has certainly on more than one occasion been my own cry.
And the reason we need God's forgiveness in these instances, is because these very cries manifest nothing but our own terribly inflated pride - that we would think so highly of ourselves (that we would think us to be so important and notable) that God would actually go out of His way to refuse to hear our cries in those moments of darkness when we think we are alone, lost, and abandoned.
I mentioned to someone the other day about how years ago one priest in Savannah received a phone call from the prayer group of another parish in the city asking for help with their efforts because they didn’t think that their prayers were "getting through" to God. Who in the world did they think they are? Who in the world or what in the world did they think of God? One must suppose that they imagined Him, the Almighty Creator of the Universe, as one whom they might wrap around their collective pinkie at moment's notice.
God wants us to love Him, not for what He might do for us (because He's already given us more than we might ever imagine); rather He simply wants us to love Him for who He is. And in those dark nights when a fearful conscience (almost always goaded on by the devil himself, tries to tell us that God really has left us for good, we need for Him (God) to pour down upon us the abundance of His mercy - to forgive us for allowing our consciences to be momentarily hijacked by the Prince of Hijackers himself.
I suppose what I want to say here, is that if Christopher Hitchens had any real sense when it comes to religion and Christianity, he wouldn't have proclaimed the demise of religion. Rather he would have reinforced for us the reality of the devil, and how not even a Mother Teresa can be exempt from his jibes and taunts. If Mr. Hitchens and his ilk were truly honest, they might even consider admitting the possibility that the devil had pulled the wool over their own hyper-critical if not hypo-critical eyes.
We of course, have a very distinct advantage over the Mother Teresa types in this world. That is that they - along with many of the prophets including Habakkuk - have to carry on their Christian vocation in situations and circumstances quite apart and removed from the ordinary hustle and bustle of life. Their works are done if not in secret, then in isolation from other human beings. And we forget that it is through the acts of charity which we perform in and through each other that we experience God's presence most fully.
As I wrote in the newsletter, it is generally at the beginning of walk with God that He gives us those nice warm fuzzy moments with Him. But just as any married couple must learn to allow Eros love give way to agape love, so you and I must learn to love God for who and what He is, and not for what he might make us feel. I think the last time I experienced God's presence (And I mean truly felt Him and that He was right there next to me in a more than palpable way) was in the chip bin at Union Camp Corporation (200 feet above the Savannah River on a freezing cold night at 3:30 AM in the morning the year before I went to seminary. I was pulling a double shift because my relief failed to come in - and I was cold, tired, and very much alone.
What I’ve learned to look for over the years - or what I’ve simply tried to be more aware of - is how God continues to love me and comfort me - through my family and through you all and the way you minister to us. Many of you are kind enough to say the same about me but I assure you it works both ways. God ministers to us through others who (far more often than we want to realize) function as His angels -- and whom He charges to guard and care for us. We simply need to open a bit wider the eyes of our faith, so that we might behold those angels when most necessary.
And speaking of faith. The last line of the Old Testament passage reads: Behold, his soul which is lifted up is not upright in him: but the just shall live by faith." What this means is that the man or woman who constantly feels the need for his soul to sense physically God's presence has a problem - that something is not "upright" in him. Instead, the just (God's people who live by justice and righteousness and who are upright) will not live by their feelings, but by their faith: by their trust that God is there with them forever and always, even though we may not see Him or feel Him.
The very wonderful Roman Catholic spiritual director Francis de Sales offered this piece of advice to a young lady sensing the same frustrations as Mother Teresa and Habakkuk: "God does not want us to have control over our faith, our hope, and our charity, nor to have use of them, except just enough to live on and to draw from in times of absolute necessity." The older I get, the more true I realize this to be. God may not always be right there precisely when I want Him to be, but He's always right on time.
One last thing. Mother Teresa learned that lesson. She realized that it was in those periods of darkness that she found herself closest to her Savior. She realized that no one other than He could ever truly identify with her in those moments of darkness and she was totally alone. Indeed she would eventually write in her diary, "I came to love the darkness." Habakkuk also realized that those darkest moments were when God would most likely speak to him: "I will stand upon my watch, and set me upon the tower, and will watch to see what God will say unto me, and what I shall answer."
Remember: God does not want us to have control over our faith, our hope, and our charity, nor to have use of them, except just enough to live on and to draw from in times of absolute necessity. If we can remember that, we will seldom if ever, experience the need to ask Him to forgive us those things whereof our consciences are afraid. Instead we will be part of the just, along with Teresa and Habakkuk. Because the just truly shall live by his -- and her faith.