Strangers and foreigners on the earth

Scripture Lessons: Isaiah 1: 1, 10-20 and Hebrews 11: 1-3 and 8-16, NT pages 225-226 Sermon Title: Strangers and foreigners on the earth Preached on August 7,2016 Last winter, Tom Long, former professor of preaching at Emory’s Candler School of Theology, came to speak here at our church. He is thought by many to be one of the strongest preachers in the English language, but interestingly, in recent years his books have not been focused on preaching in general, but specifically at funerals. It is morbid to read a book on funerals, but the funeral is something that every pastor wants to do well, and rarely has a book come along to give any kind of instruction on the subject. In one chapter on preaching at a funeral Long gives the following advice: The indispensability of shouting out the good news at a funeral gets highlighted when we realize that there are actually two preachers at every funeral. Death – capital D Death – loves to preach and never misses a funeral. Death’s sermon is powerful and always the same: “I win every time. I destroy all loving relationships. I shatter all community. I dash all hope. I have claimed another victim. Look at the corpse; look at the open grave. There is your evidence. I always win! If Death is preaching at the funeral then the congregation must choose who to listen to, as both preachers there try to tell them how to respond to what they see. Death’s sermon is all fear and darkness, shadow and hopelessness. And then there’s the pastor who struggles to say something that inspires some hope, and the pastor’s message is based in the promises of God in Scripture – he or she will charge the congregation to have faith and to believe that beyond death there is new life. Of course, maybe the pastor is a little bit hesitant. Maybe he can’t quite say it like he means it. Maybe she gets all caught up in the sadness of the moment, maybe the congregation, hearing both the sermon from Death and the sermon from the pastor can’t be quite sure who it is that’s right – and judging from the reality presented, the closed coffin, the dug grave, despite the flowers it would seem as though it were Death who had the final word, but truly we always have a choice in how we understand – and the power to choose what death or anything else means – that is a choice that must not be taken lightly. There are always two preachers telling you what to believe, and fear frames reality in one way while faith frames it in another. Let me tell you what I mean. I once saw a framed copy of a wanted poster for Billy the Kid in a Mexican restaurant and learned that this cold blooded killer was 5 foot 7, 125 lbs, and 18 years old. Now I haven’t seen 125 lbs. since 6th or 7th grade. And it was about that time that I had to run away from a girl named Tawanna Hayes who came after me with her umbrella. I wasn’t intimidating her or anyone else with my 125 lbs. but Billy the Kid was, and it’s important to think about why. A 5 foot 7, 125 lbs. teenager is one thing on his own – but he’s something else altogether if every wanted poster and newspaper is telling you he’s a killer for the whole world can be chilled to the core by what we would normally not take a second look at if Death’s in the pulpit telling you how to see and believe. Just like the coffin or the grave – there are so many things in life that inspire our fear but don’t have to for there are always two preachers at the funeral – we always have an option in understanding what the high points or the low points in life mean. Don’t forget that there is another voice, and sometimes it’s the voice of Jesus who again and again says: “Do not be afraid.” “Do not be afraid,” Christ said. Again and again: “Do not be afraid.” Then there’s the 11th chapter of Hebrews which we have just read: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” And Abraham, according to our 2nd Scripture Lesson it is Abraham’s faith that defines him – By faith he stayed for a time in the land he had been promised, but he lived as in a foreign land, living in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. [While] he looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God.” According to this description it seems that Abraham, this great hero of our Old Testament, was looking forward to something he had no assurance of – he was looking forward to a city while he lived in a tent. He was looking forward to so many descendants that they would outnumber the stars in the sky or the grains of sand by the seashore while, according to Hebrews he was “as good as dead.” So his wife Sarah laughed when God told her she would bare a son, but there are always two preachers: Death is on one side, faith on the other. Skepticism is on one side and optimism is on the other. Fear is on one side, hope on the other. So Abraham could have looked at that tent and thought to himself – this is as good as it’s going to get – he could have looked in the mirror and in taking in his wrinkles and gray hair been sure that he would never have children – convinced of what he could see he could have forgotten about that promise from God sure that God must not have known what God was talking about, but faith – faith - is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not see – and according to what was promised that he could not yet see he left his homeland, called to set out for a place guided by the Word of God. Faith. This is faith. And faithful Abraham like so many others – died in faith without having received the promises – but from a distance they saw. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth – for people who speak of faith, who see what isn’t there – they make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. That they desire a better country – and that they are bold enough to move from where they are to where they might be. It reminds me so much of those old Presbyterians, who packed their bags in South Carolina, filled their wagons, and planted corn here in Middle Tennessee based on the promise of corn stocks seven feet tall. A preacher named Gideon Blackburn founded this church back in those days – as well as that great big Presbyterian Church up in Nashville, which after four years had grown to 45 members, two or three of them were men. Now that was the church in Nashville, and some say that things are bigger and better in Nashville and if that’s the case than if they had 45 members in Nashville back then how many did they have here in 1818? Now did any of those who were here in 1818 know that 200 years later this would be here? Could they have imagined that the little congregation they assembled in Columbia, Tennessee would become this church? This church - with our organ and our choir and our nursery and our stain glass windows and our ministry to this community – could they have imagined this? Certainly not if they had been listening to the one preacher who goes on and on about how no one goes to church anymore or how young people don’t have any time these days. Certainly if all those old South Carolina Presbyterians would have listened to the preacher whose sermon is all fear and death than they would have stayed right where they were. And in the same way - if these new officers that we will ordain and install today – if any of them had been listening to that one preacher whose word is all nostalgia for the good old days and despair for tomorrow – if any of them had bought into the gospel of hopelessness and decline than when the Nominating Committee made their call they would have hung up before the request to consider serving as an elder or deacon had even made it out of their mouths. But they didn’t. And we shouldn’t either, for this preacher Death is one voice but there is another. We hear the words of that Great High Priest who calls us to run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to him – the pioneer and perfector of our faith. So we need not heed death – because we know the story of the Holy Son of God who was laid down to die only to rise again on the third day. We have heard the example of Father Abraham – who was beyond his years but could see into the future, and knew that God was not done with him yet. What we see now was made from things that were once not visible – and as we step into tomorrow we need only trust the promises of the one who brought life into of all our yesterdays. Like strangers and foreigners on this earth, let us all look forward to that city that has foundations – whose architect and builder is God. By faith and not by sight let us march into the future trusting that our greatest days are yet to come. Amen.