Who are "you"?
The Second Sunday after the Epiphany
January 11, 2009
I’ve always enjoyed almanacs – you know those small publications filled with weather forecasts and homespun wisdom and important facts like sunrise times and when you’ll find stars in what part of the sky. I suspect the Three Magi might have used an almanac if they’d been around back then.
The Old Farmer’s Almanac is the most well-known, but I’ve bought two or three almanacs every year for … well, for a long time. I even used to write a column called the Times Almanac a long time ago. I consult almanacs when I plant vegetables, as have my parents and my grandparents before me.
Perhaps the most famous almanac writer – far more famous than I – was Benjamin Franklin, who wrote under the pen name Poor Richard. And in Poor Richard’s Almanack appeared many sayings that were catchy and wise, and many of them are remembered today.
Franklin said things like:
Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.
Nothing but money is sweeter than honey.
Cheese and salty meat should be sparingly eat.
Kill no more pigeons than you can eat. (Not very catchy, but written before the extinction of the passenger pigeon because of over-hunting, so there really was something to this one.)
One of my favorites: Fish and visitors smell in three days.
And, of course, A penny saved is a penny earned.
Folks don’t read almanacs like they used to, but these catchy aphorisms haven’t gone the way of the passenger pigeon. In fact, they’re probably as popular as ever. And where do you find them? On church signs. Clever and not-so-clever sayings designed to make you stop and think.
The classic is the one you see in a summer heat wave: Think it’s hot here?
During the election season, you saw this one: God loves you, and God approved this message.
There’s Wal-Mart isn’t the only saving place.
And I like this one: Under the same management for over 2000 years.
Don’t worry. Our sign isn’t going in this direction. But I’ve been thinking about such church signs this week when I read one right down the street. It says, “Everything that you do, you could do better.”
Not the most obvious sign in its meaning, and certainly not one of those clever jokey ones. “Everything that you do, you could do better.” It’s probably doing its job because it’s had me thinking. What could they have meant by it? And perhaps more important, what sense do I make of it? A mystery.
My first thought was that perhaps it points to our inherent sinfulness, since it says “you could do better,” and sin is about our imperfection. But the more I thought about it, that didn’t sound very convincing. A simple sign saying “Repent” would be more effective.
So I puzzled on it some more. Then I thought that it meant we ought to redouble our efforts to do good, to work harder to perform Christian acts of mercy. But the more I thought about it, that didn’t make much sense, either. You just don’t see the theology of works on a Protestant church sign. Luther wouldn’t approve.
So I started all over. Unlike those others, this sign was doing what it’s supposed to. It had me thinking theology all week! And then it struck me that maybe it was a sort of trick – that maybe the answer actually lay in the grammar. That the form of address had me barking up the wrong tree!
It said, “Everything that YOU do…” I was reading it as singular, as “Everything that I do.” And maybe there’s something to that – maybe I had found the clue. Maybe the “you” ought to be plural, like “you all, y’all.” Everything that you do alone, you all could do better together.
You see, what struck me is that I’m not alone in this life. I’m surrounded by my Christian family. So what’s accomplished at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church is never my doing – it’s a collective work. The painting of the church, which was completed this week, was not paid for by me and me alone. When visitors and new members come, it’s from the gracious invitation and the warm welcome of many. There are those who cook and clean and vacuum and mow. There are those who teach and sing and visit and pray.
Ah, those who pray.
The thought of prayer got me further down this track. The “you” must be plural, “you all could do better” But not just us here in this church, physically present. What we do, especially through prayer, is accomplished in the company of those who came before, those whose faith laid the groundwork for us. So many saints, many of whom lived and toiled right here. Those whom the New Testament calls a great cloud of witnesses. Their faith informs us. They are with us in our faith, in our actions. What we do, what we accomplish, has been made possible by their faith. And by the prayers of those who surround us in this life, as well. The saints and angels and the mighty army of those who pray – that’s a lot more than little old me.
Now, as true as this is – as right as all this is in our theology, I still felt that there must be something else. And then I read the Gospel lesson for this week.
“In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him.”
And there it was. The clue I was looking for. The message hidden in the puzzle. And it came right down out of heaven like a dove. It was the Holy Spirit. There is nothing I can do alone. There is nothing we can do alone. There is nothing worth doing that we can do without the help of the Holy Spirit.
The Apostle Paul found a group of John the Baptist’s followers in the town of Ephesus. They’d been baptized and were there in a group, supporting one another in their faith. And Paul asked them about their baptism. Was there a preacher? Check. Hard to beat John the Baptist. Water? Check. You always baptize with water as the sign. Holy Spirit? “No,” they said, “we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.”
They had not seen the sign. They had not heard the news. They were on the right track, but were not fully living the faith. They had heard of God and repented of their sins in his name. But they had not heard of the Holy Spirit. And they had not heard that the Messiah had come, that Jesus Christ had died and had risen again.
The “you” in them was not big enough. They opened their hearts and became complete: They accepted Christ and they were baptized with the Holy Spirit.
When we baptize today, three things are necessary. First, water. Second, the words “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” The third we barely think about: There has to be another to do the baptism, in our tradition an ordained minister. We cannot go it alone. And we cannot go it without the Trinity, the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit.
We are animated by the Holy Spirit, who lives in holy community with the Father and the Son, together in one Godhead. We are animated to live in our own community – with others in this church, in our faith, in our world.
Everything we attempt on our own, outside that community, is destined to failure.
Everything we do in community – with the prayerful support of others, in the midst of the great cloud of witnesses, with the assistance of the Holy Spirit moving within us– everything that we do in that community is destined for greatness. The greatness of life in the Spirit, of a life lived for Christ, of the assurance of life with them in the world to come.
I truly believe this. I believe it because I’ve seen the sign.
Amen.
January 11, 2009
I’ve always enjoyed almanacs – you know those small publications filled with weather forecasts and homespun wisdom and important facts like sunrise times and when you’ll find stars in what part of the sky. I suspect the Three Magi might have used an almanac if they’d been around back then.
The Old Farmer’s Almanac is the most well-known, but I’ve bought two or three almanacs every year for … well, for a long time. I even used to write a column called the Times Almanac a long time ago. I consult almanacs when I plant vegetables, as have my parents and my grandparents before me.
Perhaps the most famous almanac writer – far more famous than I – was Benjamin Franklin, who wrote under the pen name Poor Richard. And in Poor Richard’s Almanack appeared many sayings that were catchy and wise, and many of them are remembered today.
Franklin said things like:
Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.
Nothing but money is sweeter than honey.
Cheese and salty meat should be sparingly eat.
Kill no more pigeons than you can eat. (Not very catchy, but written before the extinction of the passenger pigeon because of over-hunting, so there really was something to this one.)
One of my favorites: Fish and visitors smell in three days.
And, of course, A penny saved is a penny earned.
Folks don’t read almanacs like they used to, but these catchy aphorisms haven’t gone the way of the passenger pigeon. In fact, they’re probably as popular as ever. And where do you find them? On church signs. Clever and not-so-clever sayings designed to make you stop and think.
The classic is the one you see in a summer heat wave: Think it’s hot here?
During the election season, you saw this one: God loves you, and God approved this message.
There’s Wal-Mart isn’t the only saving place.
And I like this one: Under the same management for over 2000 years.
Don’t worry. Our sign isn’t going in this direction. But I’ve been thinking about such church signs this week when I read one right down the street. It says, “Everything that you do, you could do better.”
Not the most obvious sign in its meaning, and certainly not one of those clever jokey ones. “Everything that you do, you could do better.” It’s probably doing its job because it’s had me thinking. What could they have meant by it? And perhaps more important, what sense do I make of it? A mystery.
My first thought was that perhaps it points to our inherent sinfulness, since it says “you could do better,” and sin is about our imperfection. But the more I thought about it, that didn’t sound very convincing. A simple sign saying “Repent” would be more effective.
So I puzzled on it some more. Then I thought that it meant we ought to redouble our efforts to do good, to work harder to perform Christian acts of mercy. But the more I thought about it, that didn’t make much sense, either. You just don’t see the theology of works on a Protestant church sign. Luther wouldn’t approve.
So I started all over. Unlike those others, this sign was doing what it’s supposed to. It had me thinking theology all week! And then it struck me that maybe it was a sort of trick – that maybe the answer actually lay in the grammar. That the form of address had me barking up the wrong tree!
It said, “Everything that YOU do…” I was reading it as singular, as “Everything that I do.” And maybe there’s something to that – maybe I had found the clue. Maybe the “you” ought to be plural, like “you all, y’all.” Everything that you do alone, you all could do better together.
You see, what struck me is that I’m not alone in this life. I’m surrounded by my Christian family. So what’s accomplished at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church is never my doing – it’s a collective work. The painting of the church, which was completed this week, was not paid for by me and me alone. When visitors and new members come, it’s from the gracious invitation and the warm welcome of many. There are those who cook and clean and vacuum and mow. There are those who teach and sing and visit and pray.
Ah, those who pray.
The thought of prayer got me further down this track. The “you” must be plural, “you all could do better” But not just us here in this church, physically present. What we do, especially through prayer, is accomplished in the company of those who came before, those whose faith laid the groundwork for us. So many saints, many of whom lived and toiled right here. Those whom the New Testament calls a great cloud of witnesses. Their faith informs us. They are with us in our faith, in our actions. What we do, what we accomplish, has been made possible by their faith. And by the prayers of those who surround us in this life, as well. The saints and angels and the mighty army of those who pray – that’s a lot more than little old me.
Now, as true as this is – as right as all this is in our theology, I still felt that there must be something else. And then I read the Gospel lesson for this week.
“In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him.”
And there it was. The clue I was looking for. The message hidden in the puzzle. And it came right down out of heaven like a dove. It was the Holy Spirit. There is nothing I can do alone. There is nothing we can do alone. There is nothing worth doing that we can do without the help of the Holy Spirit.
The Apostle Paul found a group of John the Baptist’s followers in the town of Ephesus. They’d been baptized and were there in a group, supporting one another in their faith. And Paul asked them about their baptism. Was there a preacher? Check. Hard to beat John the Baptist. Water? Check. You always baptize with water as the sign. Holy Spirit? “No,” they said, “we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.”
They had not seen the sign. They had not heard the news. They were on the right track, but were not fully living the faith. They had heard of God and repented of their sins in his name. But they had not heard of the Holy Spirit. And they had not heard that the Messiah had come, that Jesus Christ had died and had risen again.
The “you” in them was not big enough. They opened their hearts and became complete: They accepted Christ and they were baptized with the Holy Spirit.
When we baptize today, three things are necessary. First, water. Second, the words “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” The third we barely think about: There has to be another to do the baptism, in our tradition an ordained minister. We cannot go it alone. And we cannot go it without the Trinity, the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit.
We are animated by the Holy Spirit, who lives in holy community with the Father and the Son, together in one Godhead. We are animated to live in our own community – with others in this church, in our faith, in our world.
Everything we attempt on our own, outside that community, is destined to failure.
Everything we do in community – with the prayerful support of others, in the midst of the great cloud of witnesses, with the assistance of the Holy Spirit moving within us– everything that we do in that community is destined for greatness. The greatness of life in the Spirit, of a life lived for Christ, of the assurance of life with them in the world to come.
I truly believe this. I believe it because I’ve seen the sign.
Amen.
posted by Michael+ at 11:20 PM
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