Sermons

Ruth was a foreigner—a Moabite woman.  From the start, we pointed out just how extraordinary it is that there is a whole book in the Bible about a foreign woman who is presented as the model of lived faith.  Before we meet Ruth, we meet her future in-laws, a husband (Elimelech), a wife (Naomi) and their two sons.  This family goes through wave after wave of terrible challenges:  they have to flee Israel because of a famine; they have to build a new life in Moab; Elimelech dies suddenly and they have to grieve him and rebuild their lives again.  Eventually, both sons marry Moabite women and life seems to stabilize.  For ten years, life is pretty good.  Then, in a flash, both of the sons die.

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I’ve been making the case for a while now that what we are called to do is live our faith.  Being a part of a faith community can help us live our faith because others may help us to see what a lived faith looks like or they may challenge us when we wander from a faithful path or they may be supports for us when we are going through hard times.  Of course, just as importantly, in community, we also get the chance to be there for others in all those same ways.  The presence of a loving, caring faith community can be a huge help.  However, in the end, what matters is the faith that we live, whether we are at church or not.

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Americans have been leaving the church for decades.  No matter what faith you profess, no matter how conservative or how liberal you and your faith may be, if you still go, there are more and more empty seats around you. There are a host of theories about why this has happened:  clergy sexual abuse and church corruption; the failure of the church to speak meaningfully to social changes; the pandemic; and on and on.  When you ask people why they left the church, though, few describe actually making a decision to leave.  Instead, most people describe a gradual move away from attending until one day they just didn’t go anymore.

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When I was in grade school, we had a game that was beloved by the students and despised by all the playground supervisors.  We called the game, “One, Two, Three…Blacktop!”  One of the cool things about the game was that it was never announced ahead of time.  You’d just see it start to take shape.  One group of people would slowly gather on one side of the playground, across the blacktop.  The other group would do the same on the other side of the blacktop.  To a casual observer, nothing was happening.  Then, someone would call out, “One, Two, Three…Blacktop!” Everyone on each side would start running.  The goal was to make it to the other side.  Alternatively, the goal was to keep anyone from making it past you.  This led to pure carnage—with bodies strewn across the blacktop on both sides.  If the blacktop was icy, you got the added thrill of people sliding on top of one another across the pavement.

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I’ve been pointing out to folks lately that I am terrible at predicting the future.   “Everyone owning their own computer?”  No way that ever happens!  Some, “World Wide Web” that connects everyone around the world?  Ya…right.  Free long distance calling from phones that we just carry around in our pockets, no cords and no rotary dialing? Wow…how many fights would that have solved in our house when my sisters and I would harass whoever was on the phone to get off the phone because we needed the phone, now!  I remember loading up on quarters for weeks to use a payphone to call my girlfriend in California:  “That will be twenty five cents for the next three minutes.”  Huge changes have happened in my lifetime.  I’ve either not seen them coming or just dismissed them out of hand.

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So, I tend to be above average at most things, not great but okay. When I played golf, I was a decent golfer—not great but good.  Do you want to play Scrabble?  I’m pretty good but there are people who are better.  Up for some cards?  Let’s play cribbage.  We’ll have a great time but you’ll win your fair share.  I’ve made peace with being pretty good, not great, at most things.

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So, does anyone here know who Stanislav Petrov was?  No, he wasn’t a cosmonaut.  He wasn’t an Olympic gymnast.  He wasn’t on that plane that “fell” from the sky in Russia this week, either.  No, he’s just a guy…who saved all of our lives.  In fact, he probably saved the world.  I think it is worth taking a minute to meet him…

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We’ve been talking lately about taking control of the things that we can actually control:  how we approach other people; how we breathe; how we move.  Choices we can make can allow us to be more of who we are.  Our choices can also allow us to be present enough to discover the “something more” that I experience as God’s presence.

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So, over the past few weeks, I have been exploring specific things we do that have spiritual power:  practicing hospitality and being intentional about how we breathe.  My premise is that the world is full of God’s presence.  That presence, though, is always mediated through the people and the world around us that we experience in everyday life.  If this is true, then we have to ask ourselves, why we don’t experience this presence more often.  My answer is that we do things that block us from experiencing God in our everyday lives.  So, if one of the main ways that God might become apparent to us is through the people around us and we live in such a way that others are overlooked or treated as suspects, we will not see God in and through them.  Or, if we are in a constant state of “flight/fight” because we aren’t managing our breathing in a way that grounds us, we will simply not be available to God.  I have to be open to the world around me.  I have to be grounded and present in my own skin.

This morning, I want to add a third thing to practice:  walking.

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When I was in eighth grade, we got a new track coach.  On our first day of practice, the coach had us sit in the bleachers.  He stood in front of us, just staring us all down.  Then, he spoke:  “All of you have been running since you learned how to walk.  The problem, though, is not one of you really knows how to run.  There is a right way to run that I can teach you.  However, you’re going to have to start from square one.”  I remember thinking at the time, “That’s the dumbest thing that I’ve ever heard!”  (Remember, I was in eighth grade and knew everything already!). Then, he proceeded to actually teach us how to run.  Everyone ran more efficiently and faster and longer than we’d ever run before.  Who knew?

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Years ago, the Church Ladies group went on a field trip—the only one that I can remember taking together.  We all bought our tickets and went to hear ouf favorite author speak.  We found our seats in the large auditorium and settled in.  The place was buzzing with anticipation.

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Most of us don’t have much experience of being a stranger or being in need or being vulnearable.  Try this thought experiment, though.  It’s time to go to the doctor.  You check in.  You pay your co-pay. They check your insurance.  You sit down and wait.  Your name is called.  You’re led down a hallway to a small room.  You are weighed and measured.  You are given a paper gown that fits no one and left to sit on crunchy paper—just to increase your discomfort. Could you feel any less welcomed or any more vulnerable.

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