This is a sermon shared with the First Presbyterian Church of Albany based on the lesson of Hebrews 11:29-12:2
The letter to the Hebrews is, at once, a theologically profound, socially complicated, and literally awkward letter. And to be very honest, the letter to the Hebrews is one of those books in the Bible I try to avoid - as a preacher and in m pursuit of discipleship. I don’t know if it is because of my age, or the fast pace of this moment in my life - parenting, partnership, important friendship, family relationships, social leadership - but more often than not, what I would like to do in whatever spare time I have is to see some mindless TV program, or listen to a similarly mindless radio show or podcast, or read an article or a book that would catch my interest because of the cleverness of the use of words and not necessarily because of any depth it might have. If there is a book in the Bible that is neither of these is the Letter to the Hebrews.
From the opening of the letter, one realizes that this is a book that requires intentional presence because as one reads it seems that one is either missing the point or it is going over one’s head. And by saying this I am not trying to judge any one person’s reading comprehension and analytical abilities. But I know I am not far into reading the letter to the Hebrews by the time I realize that the image and sound in my head are those of the teacher in the Peanuts cartoons. (And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, just web search “Peanuts teacher”, and play a video. You’ll know what I’m talking about!)
The danger with unbridled mindlessness, I think, is that it goes against our very human nature. One thing is to find quality time for frivolity and relaxation. A whole other thing is to pretend like we can ignore in any significant way the reality of who we are, the world we live in, and the people we are surrounded by - some by choice, and others by default. This is my unscientific, extroverted analysis of it: we are social animals, built to be in relationship in order to find meaning and sustenance for life. Whether we like to acknowledge it or not, there is much more to life and living than one’s ability to keep a fresh jug of milk in the refrigerator. Most of us know that even that most basic expectation of keeping fresh milk in the fridge is much more complicated to many both far and near to us. Whether we want it or not, whether we like it or not, I think our human drive to life and to living moves us often, not to say constantly, wanting to figure out how to make life and living better for us and for those around us as far in degrees of the relationship as we can possibly handle.
Religion is one of the ways humans have sought to make sense of the challenge of making things better for ourselves and for other humans. A connection to the transcendent, to the divine, to a power we cannot articulate nor comprehend, is one of the things that provide us the drive to figure life out for ourselves and for others. Christians define that drive as faith. Often used as a synonym for religious belief, the Random House Unabridged Dictionary defines “faith”, among other things as, “confidence or trust in a person or thing”, and as “belief that is not based on proof.” I don’t know about you, but confidence, trust, and the ability to believe without proof are quite difficult to find in a time where we are inundated at once with so much knowledge and with so little wisdom, a time where many in public discourse are trying to make lies plausible, and truth an exercise in futility.
As a pastor and historian, I know these challenges are not unique to our time. Those who have achieved political, social, and religious power will seek to make truth whatsoever will support their ability to remain in that power. That was true in the late 1st-century community that first read the letter to the Hebrews, and that is true for us - religious communities seeking to witness a better, more community-based, more expansive, more inclusive way of being.
Our predecessors in the faith had a different understanding of what faith was and what was it for. At the opening of chapter 11, the writers of the letter to the Hebrews write that
“…faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
Beyond confidence, trust, and belief, faith for our early Christian ancestors was about assurance, hope, and conviction. What is more, the good news for us this morning is that such assurance, hope, and conviction is, an inheritance, a practice we can get better at, and a legacy we can and should leave to those who will come after us to articulate better ways of being community with and for each other. In his book, Peaceworks, Catholic spiritual director and theologian Henri Nouwen wrote that today
…we face a threat qualitatively different from all other previous threats and we do not have a fitting model for a response… As humanity we have entered a period in which our faith is being stripped of all support systems and defense mechanism. But it is precisely with this naked faith that we are called to build a community of hope that is able to resist the darkness of our age.
Even when the challenges we are facing in the greater scheme of things are not unique, I do agree with Father Nouwen that the realities we live in are qualitatively different from anything humans have faced before. The good news is, I think, that faith is not something we accomplish, but something we exercise. Working for goodness, well-being, peace, justice, and love is not a race any one of us can complete. It is more of a marathon, a relay. No one is expected to get their first. Each one of us is only expected to run our part as long and as fast as we can, only that. We have received the story of peace, justice, and reconciliation from an ancestor. We are only expected to run with that story in witness and presence in our community. Someone will pick up our version of the story of peace, justice, and reconciliation because they will have known of it through you and me. And so the marathon, the relay continues.
And Jesus is before us in this marathon relay. Jesus is the pioneer and perfecter of faith and of the practice of faith. Life, and life abundant, a joyful life, a reconciled life is what awaits us. Exercising the faith we have inherited is practicing that way of living fully and abundantly with, for, and, alongside each other. We just need to pick up our part of the relay. That way we will witness our assured hope and conviction that a better world is possible and imminent.
May it be so. Amen.