sermon by Carrie Eikler
Psalm 148
September 8, 2013
When I told Torin what I was going to
talk about today, I said, this sermon is going to be a “come to Jesus” moment. I have friend who uses this phrase- a “come
to Jesus moment”- when she is talks about experiencing anything that is clear,
to the point, don’t put too much time into explaining it, it’s important, just
do it. Come to Jesus.
I don’t give many come to Jesus
sermons.
Perhaps I like my sermons to be a bit
more nuanced than that. A bit more
poetic and flowery.
Today, I’m chucking that.
This is my come to Jesus moment.
Just come to Jesus. Come to Jesus and
celebrate.
When we decided to take on a summer-long
(at least a 7week long) series on Creation Care, I knew it would be something
our congregation would appreciate. After
all, we are a congregation that takes this topic very seriously. We have identified that along with Christian
Community, creation care would be one of our two main foci when thinking of
outreach, education, nurture, and so on.
As we identified at our congregational
retreat in April, in this congregation we have gardeners, mushroom hunters,
farmers, mountain advocates, diggers in the dirt and mudpie makers, and
washerwomen and washermen of cloth diapers.
We are full of people who feel called to care for the environment.
And yet, this wasn’t a series on just
environment.
It was a series on creation.
On caring for God’s good creation.
If it was a series on just the
environment, it would have the potential of being a seven week
call to action, an almost two month long
confessional
It would be like Lent, in the middle of
summer.
Repent. and Renew.
So you will have noticed that every week
wasn’t about the environment. We looked at what creation means, who is our
creator, how we are as part of the creation.
Yes, we talked about our responsibility to change our habits and our
hearts, but today is what it all leads up to.
Today, oh you good people of faith, is a
day to celebrate.
Today, oh you responsible Anabaptists
who value service so much…today is a day to remember goodness.
Come to Jesus people! Come and celebrate!
I think we need the reminder sometimes
to celebrate, don’t we? We can take
ourselves and our “responsibilities” so seriously that we forget to find joy in
the simple fact that God made us and called us good.
Last week Torin gave you a Biology 204
insight into ecological terms such as neo-Malthusian and cornucopian. And he used the Psalmist as showing you a
middle way between the two
I didn’t major in Biology or
environmental studies. I was a sociology
major. I love people, and the study of
people. I’m an extrovert (in case you
hadn’t realized).
So instead of looking at the world
through a lens like Torin or other science-minded folks might, I look at the
world and am fascinated by behaviors, motivators. What makes us tick. Why we do things. How we shape society and how society shapes
us.
It’s a good lens to take into looking at
the religious life, and it has been great to try to understand the
peculiarities of what I see in many Mennonites and Brethren, and many
socially-conscious people of faith.
So here is my own interpretation of some
dualistic extremes I see among us in
our world
It is easy to see where the American
lifestyle is one of what I call “extravagant entitlement.” We believe we have the right to anything we
want. In any quantity that we want. Whenever we want. Forget about the consequence.
Now when we realize the folly this
lifestyle, there is a tendency (at least mentally) to swing to the opposite
side, to a place I think of as “fearful responsibility .” Now, I’ll use myself as an example, and I’ll
say I see this a lot around me, maybe here. The consequence of every choice is agonized
over. Everyday living can seem to be a
series of “Oh, but there are starving people in (fill in the bank) so I
shouldn’t eat this cookie.” We embrace
our call to simplicity with such mental rigor that we become cynical,
skeptical, even unloving towards our neighbor who lives differently than we do,
more extravagantly than we might. We
live in fearful responsibility about what will happen if we live the “wrong
way.”
Now these are extremes, I realize. But I have certainly felt it. When I was a earnest, contentious seminarian,
I remember having a conversation with another student named Keith. Keith was a Quaker who grew up Mennonite and
had lived for sometime in Portland, Oregon.
I myself had lived in the Northwest for a year, in Olympia Washington,
so we were chatting about familiar
places in the area.
And I had said to him (it’s kind of
embarrassing to say this now), something along the lines of “You know it is so
beautiful out there. But I couldn’t help
feeling, as I looked at the Pacific, and saw houses and roads and all the white
people “Wow, our ancestors destroyed and decimated the people of this land and
this was as far as we could go. I look
at the ocean and think of all the destruction took place for me to stand here.”
Now, I thought I’d have a sympathetic
ear in my good liberal friend Keith. I
thought he’d give me an affirmative “Oh, I know. Isn’t it horrible.” But I’ll never forget the look he gave me, an
incredulous look, and he said “Really?!
When you looked at the beauty of God’s creation all you could see was humanity’s
tragedies? How sad for you!”
Now of course, I did see the beauty of
the gorgeous coast. But he was
right! How sad for me, that I took our
call to love, nonviolence, service, care, and all those good Come to Jesus
things…how sad that I couldn’t see deep beauty because liberal guilt or Christian
righteousness or my quest for virtue was more important.
So I’ve been setting the stage of
extremes, extravagant entitlement versus fearful responsibility. And it’s not that we live in all of one or
the other, we all probably have some of both.
The psalmist says you are part of
creation. And creation is to celebrate.
Perhaps the best way to restore
ourselves in creation is to listen to God calling us
to shout praises. To laugh joy.
To be delighted in life.
Perhaps we can find healing when we recognize
that, yes, things may seem desperate but
we can use joy as antidote to destruction.
We can use prayers of praise as a defiant act against antipathy and
discontentedness and entitlement
The Scottish hymn writer John Bell said
on one of the videos we watched last year something to the effect of humans
shouldn’t be so haughty as to believe we are the only one who could possibly
sing God’s praises. The river when it
runs, the birds when they sing, when the coyotes howl and the cicadas
chirp. When the wind rushes through the
branches, creation sings it’s praises to God.
Ask creation to teach you how to celebrate.
How to banish fear and entitlement from your life and to speak God’s
praises.
So here it is, friends. My come to Jesus moment. We are called to responsibility. We were called to till and keep and worship
and serve in the garden.
But just as importantly, we are called
to celebrate and praise our Creating God. //
Perhaps celebrating creation and our
Creator is the first steps towards reconciliation with creation.//
So come to Jesus, children! Come celebrate God’s creation.
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