“God’s
in His heaven—/All’s right with the world!”
You may have heard that
familiar, and after much use, somewhat tired quotation before. It is from a
short poem by Robert Browning, a poem that forms an ironic interlude in a long
play written in verse, Pippa Passes. Since
the purpose of these lines in the play is to illustrate the naïveté of the
speaker, we may hear “God’s in his heaven/All’s right with the world” and sigh
in discouragement. There seems to be very little right with the world these
days.
Still,
the entire short poem evokes for me my childhood here in the valley:
The year’s at the spring
And day’s at the morn;
Morning’s at seven;
The hill-side’s
dew-pearled;
The lark’s on the wing;
The snail’s on the
thorn;
God’s in His heaven—
All’s right with the
world!
Like Browning, I feel
there is indeed something consoling and hopeful about God’s creation—the
combination of its majestic complexity and the beauty of its smallest details
can take one’s breath away. I have always loved every view of creation as it
can be seen through the windows of this chapel. My childhood vantage point was
from the Kinsey Run side, near the middle window. Since the windows were open
in warm weather, I could hear the music of the Kinsey as it flowed by. Looking
across the chapel to the windows on the opposite side, I could see the cow
pasture of my great-uncle Buck Hawkins and Aunt Mary. (The road was not on that
side of the chapel until after the flood, and the pasture and cows came right
up to the chapel.) With the windows open, in the quiet moments of the service,
I could hear the rhythmic grazing of the cows and smell the sun-warmed grass.
Now the trees are all bare, but still graceful, and the old sycamore trees,
with their white bark, are especially beautiful. I love the intertwining
community of all the trees’ branches, the way they sway in unison in a strong
wind. Here, creation’s inner life is revealed and God lives in its cooperative
and communal abundance. We are an
integral part of God’s creation as well. Why is it that humans have such a hard
time living as God intended us to live, as caretakers of creation and of one
another?
It is for this very
reason, the human failure to live in loving peace, that we believe Jesus was sent
into the world. In today’s lesson from Mark, Jesus tells his disciples that he
will face persecution, injustice, suffering and death—but that he will rise
again in three days. To be fair to the disciples, no one wants to hear such bad
news about a loved one, and for Peter and the others, Jesus was both a friend
and their Lord. We are told that Peter took the Lord aside and “rebuked him,”
probably saying something like, “These things must not happen to you, Lord!”
The Lord’s response to Peter was given to all the disciples, so all of them
(and all of us), would understand the Lord’s purpose: “You are setting your
mind not on divine things but on human things…If any want to become my
followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
Poor Peter! Many days I
know just how he feels. In fact, in recent weeks, I have wished I could deny
the truth of what I am hearing on the news. Why do we have so much discord and
suffering in the world, in our country, even in our local communities? Like
Peter, I very much want to make all of the distressing news go away. Like
Peter, I want to say, “No, Lord, this cannot be true. You are a young man,
beloved. Why would your life have to be sacrificed?” As Peter and the other
disciples learned, Jesus moved willingly and purposefully toward the conflict
with the authorities that would result in his death—and our salvation.
As I speak these words,
I can see parents and families of the school-shooting victims in Parkland,
Florida, raising their arms toward heaven and imploring God, “Why did my
beautiful, beloved child have to die in this way?” The children and teachers at
Douglas High School did not choose their fate. Nor can we choose our fates. The
accident on January 5th that totaled our car certainly could have
had a very different result for David and me. We thank God (and our airbags)
that we are still alive. But even with
the sometimes perilous uncertainties of life, there is a definite choice that
we can make, and it is the choice Jesus offers his disciples in today’s lesson:
“If you want to be my followers, deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow
me.”
The uncomfortable parts
of the Lord’s injunction are the parts about denying ourselves and taking up
our crosses. Those don’t sound like
things we really want to do, do they? As
21st Century Americans, we can agree that denying ourselves is not a
cultural imperative. Spoiling ourselves is really the norm. Yet, I think the
basic meaning Jesus intends is simply to refrain from putting ourselves first.
We are called to put others before ourselves. And our crosses? I think each of us has a
unique cross to bear, and the cross can change from day to day. For me, taking
up my cross means to do the next thing before me that I must do in order to
help others, to show others that I love them—and more importantly, to show them
that Christ loves them. I am called to be Christ’s face and hands in the world.
That is simply what the
Lord means when he says, “Follow me.” He called himself “the Way, the Truth,
and the Life,” and when we follow Him, we follow his way of doing things. His
Way was a way of self-denying love. Each
day, each minute our task is to decide whether we say yes to following the
Lord’s way or say no. We won’t always get it right. Gregory Vlastos, a noted
Christian professor of ancient philosophy, wrote about the choices we are
given: “The alternatives are simple—terrifyingly simple and clear. To
compromise in this matter is to decide; to waver is to decide; to postpone and
evade decision is to decide. There is no escape. You must say yes, or no. There
are a thousand ways of saying no; one way of saying yes; and no way of saying
anything else.”
For the disciples,
especially for Peter, James and John who accompany Jesus up on the mountain,
the moment of the Transfiguration (which comes after today’s lesson, in the
chronology of events) makes it clear that Jesus has been sent specifically for
a leadership role. In the Transfiguration, an overwhelmingly bright light shines
on Jesus, and the great prophets Elijah and Moses appear to be seated with him
as equals, in conversation. To make this event perfectly clear to the disciples,
a cloud overshadows them and God’s voice speaks from heaven, “This is my Son,
the Beloved; listen to him!”
The verb to listen
comes from an Old English word that means to obey. Once again, we are
reminded that the simple path of our faith is to say YES in obedience to what
we are called to do on Christ’s behalf in the world.
Priest and theologian
Henri Nouwen wrote these words about what he called this “lifelong struggle
that lies at the heart” of our faith, the call to listen and obey:
“The love of God is an
unconditional love, and only that love can empower us to live together without
violence. When we know that God loves us deeply and will always go on loving
us, whoever we are and whatever we do, it becomes possible to expect no more of
our fellow men and women than they are able to give, to forgive them generously
when they have offended us, and always to respond to their hostility with love.
By doing so we make visible a new way of being human and a new way of
responding to our world problems.”
Nouwen‘s words are
helpful ones for us to ponder at this time. We hear commentators say that there
is great division among Americans at this point in our history, and we now know
that much of that division has been deliberately sown by external forces that
intend our country harm. I see this as an opportunity for all Christians to
come together in unity, to illustrate how we love others without expectation of
anything in return; how we forgive one another with love and let go of
hostility and resentment; how we “make visible a new way of being human and a
new way of responding to our world problems.” We must remember that there are a
thousand ways to say NO to the Lord’s
call, but in any given
situation, there is only one way to say YES.
Gracious God, we know
many challenges lie ahead for each of us individually and for all of us
collectively. We pray that you will make us strong enough to follow your Way,
as we strive to love all others unconditionally and respond with courage and
kindness to our many problems. Please grant us the ability to love all of your
creation and help to make “all things right with the world.” AMEN.
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