“One Thing Will I Seek After”

Psalm 27

First Presbyterian Church of Jamestown , New York

The Reverend Thomas A. Sweet

June 10, 2007

Confirmation Commissioning Day

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It happened on the way back from my recent trip to New Mexico , this thing I am about to confess to you, this thing that makes me ashamed yet six weeks later.  I was one of the first to board the plane that day of my coming home, sitting in seat 14E by the window.  It was a large plane and, as the departure time came closer, there were only a handful of seats not filled.  The seat beside me, though, the middle seat between the window and the aisle, was vacant and it was late enough in the boarding process that I was getting excited.  A cross-country trip with no one next to me!  But just then, right in the middle of my ecstasy, a large woman, no, a huge young woman and even larger than huge, if truth be told, appeared in the doorway of the cabin and I knew, I just knew, that she had seat 14D.  But, coming down the aisle, she passed my row and I exhaled a tornado of relief and thanks.  But, too soon as it turned out.  She had spotted an overhead compartment with available space to stow some carry on luggage, and having done so, she returned to sit in seat 14D.  And part of 14E.  

I was not happy.  I gave some not-so-subtle indications of my displeasure.  You know how we do that…those little harrumphs and repeated sighs that are unmistakable signs of irritation.  Shifting in my seat, several times.  Rolling me eyes.  Perfunctory answers to questions asked.  All of this after a week away to be renewed in the mind and heart of Christ.  Finally, the plane was cleared for take off and we were not in the air more than ten minutes before she reached into her, of course, oversized bag, to extract her oversized snack pack, and started nibbling away.  In my mind, I threw the book at her.  How could she?  How dare she?  No wonder she is like she is.  I was fuming so much that when she turned and asked me if I knew what time it was, I said, “Time for me to take a nap,” before grudgingly adding, “Five after three.”  She got my message, I guess, because she did not try to engage me in any further conversation.  

A few minutes later, pillaging through her bag again, she pulled out a book.  I looked over, wanting to see the title, pretty certain I knew what kind of book a young woman like her would read.  But it was not what I thought.  The title of the book shook me at the core of my self-righteousness.  No Harlequin romance novel, the book she was holding in her hands was called God’s Remedy for Rejection.  

I hardly can tell you how in that moment it struck me that my behavior toward the young woman had in some profound way invalidated twenty-six years of preaching.  I had a chance to be kind to this woman to whom the world likely is hostile most of the time, to be hospitable and welcoming, and not to reject.  Would that have been so hard for me?  Was that asking too much?  I failed in the most basic of ways this gospel I preach week after week.  

When I told the confirmation class this story a few weeks ago, I said that I am living proof that it is not what we believe so much that matters to God and life and the world as how we act.  We can be theologically progressive and intellectually sophisticated and if we do not build bridges of compassion to other human beings and if we do not care for the earth our home and if we do not do the things that make for peace among all the peoples and nations, we are, to use St. Paul’s imagery, just “noisy gongs and clanging cymbals.”   If we meet people’s failures with condemnation instead of grace, their sins with clucking instead of charity, their demerits with disdain instead of empathy, their shortcomings with disgust instead of generosity, then all of our religion is less than worthless.  

The ministry of Jesus, I told them and remind them now, was entirely about waking us up to love, about paying attention to what love requires in every situation and circumstance of our lives.  I was asleep to love that day on the plane.  It is so easy to go through life sleepily, simply choosing the roads well traveled, taking the paths of least resistance, going along in order to get along, following mindless conventions mindlessly.  It is why I had the members of our confirmation class repeating one night all the way from Jones & Gifford back to the church the words of a Mary Oliver poem: “My work is loving the world.”  

I could have brought some goodness into the world, into that young woman’s life, that day on the plane, but I failed to be roused by love.  I allowed my ignoble sensibilities to take over because love’s work requires effort and, frankly, I and we too often are lazy.  But we all share the same work in this life.  We all have the same responsibility to each other and to the building of what Martin Luther King, Jr. called “the beloved community” and what our scripture calls “the new creation” in which there is harmony and hospitality and everyone has the opportunity to thrive.  We may have different jobs in life, but we share the same work: no matter our job, our work is loving the world. Here is how Mary Oliver says it in a poem called When I Am Among the Trees.  

When I Am Among the Trees  

When I am among the trees,

                                                especially the willows and the honey locust,

                                                            equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,

                                                            they give off such hints of gladness.

 

                                                I am so distant from the hope of myself,

                                                in which I have goodness, and discernment,

                                                and never hurry through the world

                                                           but walk slowly, and bow often.

 

                                                Around me, the trees stir in their leaves

                                                and call out, “Stay awhile.”

                                                    The light flows from their branches.

 

                                                And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,

                                                “and you too have come

                                                     into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled

                                                 with light, and to shine.” (1)

 

A long time ago, one of the psalmists wrote:  “One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple.”  That seems like an odd sentence.  The psalmist says that he is going to ask God only for one thing, and then he seemingly lists three…to live in the house of the Lord all the days of his life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in the Lord’s temple.  But what the psalmist is asking of God is indeed only one thing: he wants to participate fully in God’s life because he knows that, in reality, that is all there is and he does not want to live somnolently, asleep.  He wants to be alive to it all- broad and deep and full, no matter the difficulty, no matter the cost.  “In God, we live and move and have our being.”

The psalmist wants to live in the house of the Lord all the days of his life.  The house of the Lord is the world.  Sallie McFague says that “the universe is God’s body.”  The communion we shall receive as a sacrament in a few moments is a sign of this greater communion with God that we experience whenever we engage the world around us and, indeed, the communion we shall receive as a sacrament only makes sense as we commune with the world in ways contemporarily congruent with the ways and manner of Jesus.  To live in the house of the Lord means that we commit ourselves to re-envisioning the world as the best of all possible worlds, and then contributing all our gifts, whatever they are, toward its appearing.  Otherwise, we are just sleeping our lives away.  “Wake up,” Jesus challenged us repeatedly.  

The psalmist wants to behold the beauty of God.  Of all the things I appreciate about Ross Mackenzie’s ministry in my life, it is his insistent belief that beauty alone can save the world.  Awaken to beauty, he would say to us if he were here today.  Create beauty because a land without beauty creates only dead souls and dead souls give rise only to boredom, greed, and violence.  Fyodor Dostoevsky once wrote that without beauty there is nothing left in the world worth doing.  Not only aesthetic beauty.  Not only the beauty of a starry night or of a flock of Canada geese taking silhouetted flight against an orange sun.  But also the beauty of treating an oversized woman in the next seat on a plane like a human being.   The beauty of a single person standing in the way of approaching tanks in a Tiananmen Sqaure protest against tyranny.  The beauty of every artist who with her or his art insists that crudity and brutality will not win our day.(2)  

Jesus saw beauty to which others were blind. He saw it in the woman caught in adultery, in Zacchaeus the tax collector, in a wayward prodigal and a father who refused to give up hope, in a Samaritan who got involved.  He saw beauty in God’s dream for the world and so he gave his whole life in its service and invited us to do likewise.  

The psalmist wants to inquire in God’s temple.  Here is the hallmark of progressive religion: religion that asks questions; religion that knows that blind faith serves only to make us blind to everything thing that really matters.  We have to be awake, we have to pay attention to life all around us in order to ask the questions by which we can give birth to a better, more humane, more just, more joyful world.  

So, confirmation commissioning class of 2007, here is my charge to you and, with you, the rest of us as well:  Seek after only one thing in your lives.  Let that one thing be to wake up to the fullness of God in a world that too often lulls us to sleep, convincing us that nothing really can change, that the way the world is today is the way the world has always to be.  Wake up to God in whom our lives are in every moment being lived.  Wake up to beauty by which we construe and construct a world made and lived in the image of God.  Wake up to all that needs to be questioned in our world today so that we may build and inhabit a better, more enlightened, more peaceful one.  

Sasha, Chloe, Ian, Lizzie, Bryce, Courtney, Jenny, Duncan, and Trevor:  You are not joining the church today in order to become more religious.  You are joining the church in order to become more human and to learn how to contribute your human life to love, to loving this world, to hailing a new creation in which life sings and soars…for everyone.  We need you and want you and now today we welcome you and commission you as full partners with us in Love’s service.

Amen.  

(1)    Oliver, Mary, Thirst.  Boston : Beacon Press, 2006, page 4.  

(2)  Ross Mackenzie spoke brilliantly about beauty in his last sermon as Director of the Department of Religion at Chautauqua Institution on August 29, 1999.  The sermon was entitled Everlasting Mercy.    

© Copyright 2007 First Presbyterian Church  

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