May 4, 2008 - Enough: How to know when the work is finished - Frank Alton

John 17:1-11



MP3 File

The other day I was reading the headlines of the New York Times while I was on the tread mill at the gym. One headline almost made me fall off the machine: For Exxon Mobil, $10.9 Billion Profit Disappoints. That was one article I had to read. One section read as follows: “Exxon said that its net income in the first quarter was $10.9 billion or $2.03 a share, up from $9.3 billion, or $1.62 a share a year ago. Analysts had forecast $2.13 a share. William A. Featherston, an analyst at UBS, said the results were “disappointing” compared with those of BP and Shell.” Now I’ve never claimed to be an economist, but I couldn’t shake the image of a giant corporation being disappointed about earning almost eleven billion dollars in three months as gas prices for consumers hit $4 a gallon.

Perhaps I was especially sensitive because I was preparing to preach this sermon on enough. The theme of “enough” had reached out and grabbed me when I read today’s lectionary text a couple of months ago. John 17 is Jesus’ final prayer with the disciples in the upper room. One line especially got my attention this time: “I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do.” Finishing? Jesus was just about to be sent to an early death about three years after his public baptism by John. There was no “death row” for Jesus like there has been for William E. Lynd, who on Tuesday will become the first person in the US to be executed since the Supreme Court lifted a moratorium on executions. How could the Son of God say that he had finished God’s work on earth in such a short time? What could he have possibly meant by “finished”? All we have to do is look at the state of the disciples, to whom he was turning over the work, to realize that the word “finished” seems a little premature. How could Jesus possibly believe he had done “enough.”

Jesus obviously meant something different than what Exxon understands by enough. And that is one of the main reasons it is so difficult for us to claim Jesus’ definition as our own: we are surrounded by powerful forces that say there is not enough. The reason that people in contemporary society do not "get it" is that we are so deeply embedded in a philosophy of consumerism, what Walter Breuggemann calls a "love affair with commodity that is a spiritually demonic force." The Hebrew Scriptures present a narrative of abundance from God that becomes a sacramental liturgy. The sacrament is about the drama of "more than enough." But that narrative of abundance that represents the "overflowing, limitless, generous power of God" has always collided with Pharaoh-- "the belief that there is not enough"--the narrative of scarcity.

This is the season at Immanuel when we prepare to receive financial pledges to support the church’s ministries. It is a good time to be reminded by the likes of Walter Breuggemann that "Stewardship is not about raising money for church, but about asking if there is any alternative to the culture of death in which we live." Raising money for the church can never be a big enough container for something as dynamic as stewardship. Our view of stewardship gets distorted because we are immersed in a narrative of scarcity during most of our lives. If one hour of worship is all we get each week, it’s very difficult to become convinced that the Bible’s narrative of abundance has any relevance for real life.

So when the church asks us to make a financial pledge, especially during a time of economic downturn, we start from a place of scarcity, a place of “not enough.” Again, Breuggemann describes it best: "The alternative to stewardship is fear. Fear that there won't be enough." Fear of not enough is a belief that is driven by the economics of scarcity, which is the invention of Nike and Coke and Exxon. "The narrative of scarcity posits that the past is barren of miracles and the only way to get anywhere is to invent yourself and scramble for whatever you can get. A past without gifts and a future without hope give a present that is an arena for anxiety--an anxiety endlessly stirred by those who generate the great theology of scarcity - a theology which says our neighbors are a threat; which creates more suicides, murders and prisons."

What is the alternative? What does “enough” look like in terms of our behavior? In the passage from John, Jesus focuses on courage: “In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world.” The disciples finally understood what Jesus meant with those words after the Ascension, which we celebrate today, and at Pentecost, which we celebrate next Sunday, when the Spirit came. We see boldness winning over fear in the Book of Acts when Peter and John, who had been driven by fear to deny Jesus and hide from his enemies after the crucifixion, finally stood up to the rulers to proclaim their faith. We see it again when other followers pray for boldness rather than protection in the face of threats to their safety. How might that kind of courage change history in our post 9/11 mindset? Could that be a high enough calling for our stewardship?

We see the power of the Spirit of God infusing the same courage today. In the movie about the life of El Salvador’s bishop, Oscar Romero, there is a scene in which Romero pays a pastoral visit to a town that was occupied by soldiers. When he arrived the soldiers started to ridicule him as a priest. They tore his shirt and tried to publicly humiliate him. Overcome with fear, he started to leave, but then stopped, came back again, and moved forward while the town watched. The next thing we see is some women putting a shawl over his shoulders and bringing him the communion elements. Then we see a collection of unarmed people lining up in front of him to receive the Eucharist. The startled soldiers no longer had the will to do them harm. The complete helplessness of the power that was evident among them was too great. So the soldiers stood aside and the people shared the communion meal. Something that moments earlier had been impossible became possible by God’s power at work in a simple priest.

Jesus offers another evidence of living with the perspective of enough: what will attract the world to the liberating truth of life in Jesus is the unity of Jesus’ followers. But again this year a different word got my attention. I have always focused on unity. But this year the image of attraction got my attention. Jesus prayed, “May they be one in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me.” Earlier in John Jesus had spoken about his death in terms of attraction: “Now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” One will be driven out while the other draws people in. Jesus’ experience with the ruler of this world began in the desert when he was tempted to impress people so they would follow, rather than offer his life in a way that would draw them to him because of his authenticity.

One of the most damaging consequences of the lie of scarcity is that there is only so much fame to go around. Only one person will be the American Idol. Only a few will be celebrities. Only a handful of high school athletes will be drafted by professional teams. What we also know about many of those celebrities is the mess that characterizes their personal lives. To hold up the model of impressing people by performance is to consign those who succeed on that path to a life that leaves less and less room for satisfying intimacy, while demanding more and more distance from authenticity. Those who fail on the path of fame have the possibility of discovering the life-giving way of the cross, but only if they can overcome the regret of not succeeding on the path of fame.

A final sign of living with “enough” comes from the founding narrative of a theology of enough. In the story of the Manna we are offered the foundation of a life characterized by trust rather than anxiety. Even before the Israelites knew what the flaky substance that fell from the sky even was, they shared a powerful experience of enough: “those who gathered much had nothing over, and those who gathered little had no shortage; they gathered as much as each of them needed.” Their trust didn’t last long. Some tried to hoard the manna overnight, contrary to Moses’ instructions. It bred worms and became foul.

So how do we get to enough? I want to suggest three words: remember, listen, and contemplate. This morning we once again gather around the communion table. John’s Gospel shows Jesus reclining at that table as he prayed these words. Each time we celebrate the Eucharist we are invited to “remember that on the night on which he was betrayed he gave thanks…” The church doesn’t celebrate the Eucharist as the time when we remember. Rather it is the sacramental expression of a life that is to be characterized by remembering. The Hebrew Scriptures are full of commands and warnings to remember and not forget. Almost all of us have experienced miracles. Hopefully all of us have experienced being cared for by another person more than once.

In a few minutes we will sing a song that is popular among Jewish people during Passover. Dayenu essentially means “it would have been enough for us.” One line reads, “Had our God delivered us from waters of the flood and not remained faithful in love when we strayed.” Rabbi Tom Meyer makes some interesting comments on that line. He asks groups of people, "'How many have experienced a personal miracle?’ Almost everyone in the room raises their hand. They don't believe other people's miracles, but they believe ‘something happened to me, I can't explain it; it was amazing.’ The sea splitting is an open miracle where nature changes. It's much more pleasurable when you see an open miracle, right in front of you. Most of us have not seen that level. But from what we have seen, we can infer the potential of even greater miracles. When you choose to be a soul, the physical world opens up for you. The tension releases. You don't have to fight nature as we're so used to doing. At the sea, God released us from that constraint. That would have been enough.”

The second word is “listen.” I believe that one reason the disciples were able to access their courage after the Holy Spirit fell at Pentecost was because they had listened to Jesus praying for them and believing in them. Jesus had prayed, “Now they know that everything you have given me is from you; for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you.” I don’t think it was experientially true in the moment that Jesus prayed it. But the words had a generative quality to them: they actually created the reality they described. We need to listen to Jesus, and to people who speak to us as Jesus talks in order to become the people Jesus believes we are. I’ve had that experience in prayer and in spiritual direction. We are offering spiritual direction through the healing center. Many of you have asked what that is. For today’s purpose I would describe it as a place where someone listens to our hearts, and responds with words spoken back to us that change and heal us as we listen to them. I commend both practices to you.

The third and final word is “contemplate.” My favorite definition of contemplation is: a long, loving look at the real. That is not the same thing as “get real”, which usually means “stop dreaming.” That assumes that the narrative of scarcity is real when in fact it is a great big lie. But the only way to know it’s a lie is to contemplate, or pay attention to, the truly real. The tradition of the Church says that the best truly real reality to contemplate is Jesus’ witness of walking the way of the cross. That can help us recognize the lie behind the walk of fame. So remember, listen and contemplate, and move into that satisfying space known as enough. Let us pray the prayer of Dayenu.