Do It Anyway

My sermon from July 20, 2008

Ecclesiastes 10:1 – 11:6

This week's text is filled with practical advice, analogies, consequences, and challenges. Having grown up on a farm, I know the truth of an iron, such as an axe, needing to be whet, or sharpened, so that you don't have to exert as much force. And I know that at some point, if you are splitting logs, you will get hurt by one of them. It isn't about not getting hurt as much as it's about not getting hurt badly.

Verse 11 of chapter 10 talks about not needing a snake charmer if the snake bites you first. The elders in my family had a similar saying, "No point closing the barn door once the horse is out of the barn." That's what they would tell us kids. It is the same as saying, "too little too late." We were being taught to look ahead, make plans and provisions, to think about consequences - stuff like that.

One of my favorite proverbs is Proverbs 14:4, "Where no oxen are, the crib is clean: but much increase is by the strength of the ox." When I first read this at 15 years of age I had been pitching manure for years. I also knew that before there were tractors, farmers used oxen to plow their fields. What I considered to be the true meaning of this scripture was not lost on me. This proverb is a metaphor to talk about what's worth doing and what isn't worth doing. If eating in winter is a priority, then maybe it's worth pitching some manure in the summer. There are trade-offs to everything. You have to decide what is most important to you.

Being a part of a faith community is no different. There are some inevitable consequences to joining yourself to other people spiritually and seeking The Holy together. There is a vulnerability to doing this that at some point will end up with you being hurt by someone or hurting someone. Sometimes it happens because of wrongdoing and sometimes it's just because it hurts to be vulnerable. Being part of a faith community costs you time and money and love and ... what else? You know what it costs you. And you do it because you want to. I hope you want to. You do it because it is more important for you to be a part of this community than it is for you to hang on to whatever you might otherwise hang on to. There are trade-offs to everything.

What we read today in chapter 11 is important to keep in mind when we're thinking about these things - things like consequences and trade-offs. The character of Solomon is encouraging us to go into our endeavors with our eyes open, knowing the costs and the hazards, but with all that, we are told to get involved with the endeavor. "Send your bread upon the waters; divide your means; and plant your seeds." In other words, do stuff. Sending your bread and dividing your means is thought by scholars to be metaphors for doing charity. Do stuff - do good stuff.

We don't know how it will all work out. Do it anyway. Verse 4 says, "Whoever observes the wind will not sow; and whoever regards the clouds will not reap." If we wait for the perfect time or the right environment or the perfect/right anything, we'll end up doing nothing.

In "Letter from a Birmingham Jail," dated April 16, 1963, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said, "We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was "well timed" in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word "Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This "Wait" has almost always meant "Never." We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that "justice too long delayed is justice denied." The work of Dr. King would have been thwarted had he listened to the word, "Wait."

You might be thinking, "Now pastor, that's really intense." And you'd be right. What Dr. King did was very intense. I'm not saying that we are on the pinnacle of some great revolutionary movement, although I do believe that such things as feeding the poor and sheltering the homeless are in fact revolutionary acts. But I don't want to talk about the acts themselves right now. I am lifting up Dr. King to say that here is a man who did amazing things against all odds, and with enemies on all sides. White men who claimed they were on his side told him to back off and that what he was doing was wrong. What Dr. King was doing was scary to these white so-called allies, and way too aggressive. Dr. King knew that he had to press on. That timeliness was a convenience of those in power. He knew what resources he had and he used them as frequently as he could.

I have questions for us today. What are our resources? What is our passion? How do we want to engage in this world? Financially ... well, let's just say that there are churches better off than we are. So what! Money may not be our resource. What is the bread that is our charity? What are the means that we can share? What seeds do we have as a community? Maybe our bread is experience. We have just had our 20th birthday as a church! We have a legacy in the American Baptist denomination. We know how to struggle with being outcasts. We have been a leader in the fight for the inclusion of queer people in Christianity. We are also leaders in knowing how to love. I see it every week. I see it in your eyes as you look at one another. I see it in the way you offer each other prayers and the elements of our communion table. I see it as you welcome visitors. I see it as you reach out beyond your comfort zone. Yes, I see it here.

We need to bring it out there. We need to figure out our resources so that we can reach out in love to those who don't feel love. I don't care about making converts. I care about offering community to people who feel isolated. I care about getting the word out that we are still here and that we are strong. I care about taking steps forward and not waiting for the right time, because there may not be a right time. Verse 6 says, "In the morning sow your seed, and at evening do not let your hands be idle; for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good." We do not know.

In the 14th chapter of Matthew there's a familiar story about Jesus walking on water.

And early in the morning Jesus came walking toward them on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, "It is a ghost!" And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid." Peter answered him, "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." He said, "Come." So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, "Lord, save me!" Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"

It's so easy for us to be like Peter. We might be in the middle of doing the most amazing and wonderful thing and the next thing we know, we feel like we're drowning. We think we're following the very voice of Jesus and then we look at the wind and it's a strong wind and it scares us. Why do we doubt? Is it because we think everything we do should be successful or else we are failures? Do we think if there's resistance, circumstantially or through people, that maybe we should take that as a sign? The story of Peter does not teach us this. Peter didn't even pray that his walking on water be "God's will." Neither did he ask permission. This was a test Peter was giving to Jesus. "Hey man, if it's really you then command me to join you." That's some gutsy talk. But Jesus did it. And Peter followed through. This story also teaches us that when we falter that we can be lifted up. "Save me," Peter shouted.

Following the way of Jesus is a risk-taking venture. Joining a community of faith is a risk-taking venture. Engaging in society is a risk-taking venture. But we can choose the depth of the risks we take. Who do we want to be? Do we want to be leaders? Do we want to love those that others have rejected? Do we want to think outside of our own pattern of doing things to become a force of love to be reckoned with?

I want to walk on water. I want to plant in the morning and at night. I want to learn how to give the resources that I have and not wish for the resources that I think I need. I don't want to wait for the right time because I think that "wait" means "never." I want to follow the way of my teacher, Jesus and my brother, Dr. King.

What ideas can we come up with to make a difference and to let people know that we are a vibrant loving community of faith? What do you think about starting a community garden in one of the city lots and working with queer homeless youth - teaching them how to grow things and giving them the food to eat that they grow. What do you think about starting a support group for battered women? What if we figured out how to restart the coffee house that we used to have? Maybe we could start a choir with the queer homeless youth? I'm just throwing out ideas. What are your ideas? What are your talents? How much time do you have? When can we start?

I'm not sure when our next community meeting is, but will you be there? Will you come and share in the food and brainstorm with us? This is what I think church is. Sure, we gather together on Sunday to encourage one another and to get energy and to remind ourselves that we have something to offer, but it's our whole life that is involved. We can make a difference. I know we can.