|
This is the season of March
Madness. Dozens of NCAA basketball teams compete to become
members of the Sweet Sixteen, and then the Final Four. I don’t
hold a torch for any particular team, but it is the only time
I watch basketball all year long.
Sadly, there is another form of
madness that has begun in March of this year—a human form of
madness called war—where two groups try to destroy each other,
both believing in their own cause.
Into this particular March
madness comes a text, a prayer. We have all prayed it hundreds
of times, perhaps even thousands of times: “Thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.”
How do I speak to you of this
text today? What do I say? What kind of guidance shall I give?
How do I speak without taking a political stance? How do I
speak as a Christian who loves his country?
I was helped a bit this past
week by a short quotation from retired Bishop William Boyd
Grove. Some of you will remember that Bill Grove led this
congregation from this pulpit for about 5 years in the late
1970s. Recently he was in Italy with a group that held an
American Christian audience with the Pope. He reported that on
the streets of Rome he was often asked the question, “Can war
between the United States and Iraq be avoided?” He gave this
answer each time; “My political hope is small. My gospel hope
is large.”
I think that’s where I am today.
I trust my gospel hope completely.
Twenty-five years ago Hans Kung
wrote something that helps me as well. This is what he said:
“The Christian message
provides no detailed information as to… disarmament
conferences and peace conversations. The gospel is neither a
political theory nor a method of diplomacy.”[i]
Hans Kung is right. There are no
political or peace strategies in the gospel. So I say this
morning with my friend Bill Grove, my political hope is small,
but my gospel hope is large.
What then is the gospel hope in
the text for today? As the bombs explode, as the Iraqi people
flee or cower, as many of us experience our own kind of fear
at home?
Last weekend I read to you from
a sermon by Helmut Thielicke preached in the spring of 1944 in
Stuttgart, Germany. You may recall that he preached a sermon
on “Thy kingdom come” from the choir loft of his bombed-out
church on that Sunday morning.
By the following Sunday the
church was completely destroyed. The text for that day was
“Thy will be done.” Listen to part of what Thielicke says.
This petition too is prayed
before the dark backdrop of a world in which, notoriously,
God’s will is not done. Or are we to think that it is God’s
will that nations should exterminate one another, that
churches and homes should sink into the dust? Are we to think
that what we have experienced in our city and probably will
have to go on experiencing is really God’s will—not only what
we now see as ruins, but above all what we do not see: the sad
nights of the homeless and the bereaved, the mortal struggles
and panics in the pits and cellars deep beneath the earth, the
scenes of terror that nobody ever hears about—is all this the
will of God?[ii]
What do I hear from Jesus in
this teaching from his prayer? Jesus’ prayer brings a radical
reorientation to traditional thinking.
THE WILL OF GOD IS ALWAYS FOR
GOOD
For one thing, Jesus says the
will of God is always for good. That may sound a bit strange
and paradoxical today, but I believe it’s true. This is my
deepest conviction and expectation. This is why my gospel hope
is large. Even out of war, good can come.
What possible good can come out
of war with Iraq? Let me suggest some possibilities. We can
learn something about sacrifice. We not only learn about
military sacrifice, but we learn about sacrifice back home as
well. We may have to give up some things to make this work for
the long haul. This entire experience may teach us something
important about the virtue of sacrifice.
Good may also come from
deepening our sense of compassion. Relief organizations are
amassing huge stocks of food along the borders of Iraq. I can
assume but do not know for sure that UMCOR is among those
organizations. I know that we will be called to a deeper,
broader compassion in the months ahead.
Or good can come out of a
combination of sacrifice and compassion. No one has really
talked about the cost of rebuilding Iraq after the war has
ended. Might this not call us to combined virtues of sacrifice
and compassion? Might that not be God’s good at work in us?
And will we not be a better, spiritually stronger people for
it?
I also think that good can come
from deepening our prayer life. About 300 people gathered here
this past Wednesday night for a time of prayer as the bombs
began to fall. A new United Methodist-sponsored television
commercial began this past Friday on CNN, on Fox News, on
Headline News, and on MSNBC. It shows a roll of spinning duct
tape. The voice over it says, “Two months ago it was just duct
tape. And someday, hopefully soon, it will be just duct tape
again. Along with the world, the people of the United
Methodist Church are praying—for understanding, for healing,
for peace. May God bless us all during this time.” Perhaps war
will deepen our prayer life.
God will work for good.
This is the larger hope of the gospel. This is our outlook. As
such, it provides a kind of radical reorientation.
SURRENDER TO THE WILL OF GOD
Jesus also says in this prayer
that I must surrender myself to the will of God. This is the
fundamental nature of the Christian journey. Life is a journey
of surrender to God. Surrender comes not in resignation or
capitulation, but in bold confidence.
Someone reminded me this past
week of the serenity prayer—the one used in 12-step groups,
including AA. Part of the prayer we know very well; “God grant
me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the
courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the
difference.” But did you know there is much more to that
prayer? Here are two lines from part of the rest of the
prayer: “Living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a
time; trusting that God will make all things right if I
surrender to His will.”
Many of you know the
name of Oswald Chambers. His most famous book, My Utmost
for His Highest, is a book of devotions for each day of
the year, published after his death. It has been one of the
top sellers of religious books for nearly 70 years. One
commentator says of the book, “No one can read this book
without becoming a better servant of Jesus Christ.” We are
told that President Bush reads this book every morning in his
private devotions.
Oswald Chambers was a Scotsman.
Paradoxically, he died in World War I as a YMCA chaplain
working in Egypt. The devotion for January 1st—the
first day of each new year—concludes in the contemporary
version in this way: If a crossroads comes in your life on any
front, surrender your will to Jesus absolutely and
irrevocably.”
That is radical reorientation,
and it is not easy.
I read a story about a plane
that was about to leave the United States to fly to England.
The plane was situated on the runway, preparing for takeoff.
The pilot made his opening statement to the passengers on
board. This is what he said: “This flight will take us to
35,000 feet. We will be flying at approximately 700 miles per
hour. We will fly over parts of Canada, over the Atlantic,
over Iceland and Greenland, over parts of Scotland, until we
finally land in London. We will be in the air about 9 hours.
We are just about ready to take off—just as soon as I get
up my nerve.”
We have to get up our nerve to
surrender to the will of God. Perhaps that’s why pray the
Lord’s Prayer so often. Week after week, day after day, we
say, “Our Father, who art in heaven… thy will be done on earth
as it is in heaven.” It is a prayer of surrender to the good
and perfect will of God.
GOD’S WILL IS OUR PEACE
One other thing Jesus may teach
us in this prayer. These are words spoken by Dante in the
Divine Comedy: “God’s will is our peace.” When we have the
sense that we are in God’s will, we have peace.
Are you looking for peace right
now? I know that many of you are—looking for a peace that
overcomes fear and uncertainty and doubt and anxiety. Many of
you have told me that you are looking for peace for your
children or your grandchildren. We look for internal peace in
the presence of external threat. Jesus says that heaven and
earth come together in perfect peace to those who seek the
will of God.
Listen one more time to Helmut
Thielicke in that same sermon from which I quoted before.
These are his final words on this text.
And because we hear the songs
of those who have become one with the will of the Father, we
too begin to be comforted. The praise of the children of God
in glory catches up our own pilgrim voices. It puts the
bickering, complaining soul to rest and gives us, instead of
gloomy resignation to our fate, a foretaste of the peace of
God.
So when we say and repeat the
words, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” this is
nothing else and nothing less than a first timid participation
in the song of the heavenly host: praise to thee, O God, that
we can bury everything—yes, everything—in thy will, our
Father![iii]
To become one with the will of
God is to have a foretaste of the perfect peace of God.
RADICAL REORIENTATION
So what is all this radical
reorientation? It is to invite the will of God into our lives.
Yet we get so busy, so preoccupied, so caught up in CNN news,
so caught up in the debates and the “what ifs” of war, that we
forget to simply invite God’s will to dominate our lives.
Jesus knew that. That’s why he taught us this prayer.
Many years ago there was a
program on television called “I’ve Got a Secret.” On the show,
a number of guests would appear who had secrets, and the panel
of experts would try to guess what their secret was. One night
a man showed up who had a most unusual secret. Friends had
gotten together to plan a birthday party for him. They went to
great lengths. They set up committees for details. They had a
committee for the decorations, a committee for refreshments, a
committee for entertainment, even a committee for gifts. It
was to be a great party. The night came and all was ready. The
guests were present. All of a sudden they realized that they
had forgotten to invite the guest of honor. The man on “I’ve
Got a Secret” was the man they forgot to invite.
Do not forget to invite the will
of God into your life in these days. Remember that His will is
our peace. Pray often and deeply, “Thy will be done on earth
as it is in heaven.” Pray—as we shall sing in a moment—“Myself
I give thee; let thy will be done.”[iv]
This is a radical reorientation
for life. But it’s the only way to go, and the only authentic
way to live.”
[i]
On Being a Christian, pg. 591
[ii]
Our Heavenly Father: Sermons on The Lord’s Prayer,
Helmut Thielicke, pg. 69
[iv]
from the hymn, “This is My Song”
|