Point of View 1 Sam 15:34-16:13, 2 Cor. 5:14-17

Twenty years ago Lily Tomlin starred in a one woman stage production
entitled, The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe.[i]
On stage, Tomlin portrayed a number of characters ranging from Agnus Angst,
a troubled teenaged girl, who, according to her grandparents,
has the manners of a terrorist,
to Kate, the jaded socialite who’s husband hasn’t even noticed
that she lost the tip of a finger to her food processor.
At times Tomlin even plays herself, the actress who worries that
“no matter how cynical we become it’s never enough to keep up!”

In all, Tomlin portrays eleven characters, each with his or her interpretation
of life’s meaning and purpose
but each also trapped by a limited perspective that keeps them blind
to the ways they contribute to their own misery.
The only one who seems the least bit happy is Trudy,
the bag lady who stands all day on the street at the corner of “Walk” and “Don’t Walk”
waiting for the aliens to contact her again.
Trudy is sane enough to know that she has lost touch with reality, but she doesn’t fret,
because her observation is that “reality is the leading cause of stress
among those who are in touch with it!”

Trudy is just another incarnation of a reoccurring character that runs through literature,
the character of the “Holy Fool.”
The Holy Fool is the unusual person who is able to step back an extra step,
cut through the malarky, deflate the defensive bubble with which
most of us try to protect ourselves and tell the truth even though truth may hurt.
Sometimes the Holy Fool is portrayed as an innocent child
like the one in the story, “The Emperor’s New Clothes”
who doesn’t know enough not to expose the pretenses of vain adults.
Sometimes the Holy Fool is the old hag whose stark physical ugliness
puts her so far from the center of social acceptability
that she has the freedom to speak her mind without fear of losing status.
But mostly the Holy Fool is one who flirts with what others might consider
the borders of sanity, like Trudy, who’s outrageous attire and behavior
paradoxically works like a cloak of invisibility
so that she can stand on a street corner unnoticed
and observe the world with detachment.

Don Quixote is such a character in literature.
Cervantes introduces him as a man
“so bruised and battered by the cares of this world
that he left the melancholy world of sanity and ventured forth.”
From the point of view of “normal” people Don Quixote seems to be crazy as a loon,
tilting at windmills, imagining himself a gallant knight,
lifting up the prostitute Dulcenea and idealizing her as a spotless saint.
But, from another point of view, one could say that
instead of being crippled by craziness he is, instead, blessed by a rare vision
making him able to look beyond the limits of present circumstances
and see God’s hand at work.[ii]

The Apostle Paul writes to the church in Corinth
of being able to see the world from another point of view
He indicates that it’s not a mark of insanity that gives one this ability,
but rather a mark of having been claimed by God through the work of Jesus.
Paul’s 2nd letter to the Corinthians comes across as somewhat of a defensive letter,
at times combative, at times pleading,
at times full of praise, and at times strongly critical.
It reflects the content of a letter Paul received from Corinth, a letter we don’t have,
that must have been full of questions and reports of a competing faction in Corinth
who have been putting down and undermining Paul and his ministry.
This competing faction has apparently criticized Paul for lacking sophistication,
for being too timid in his thinking, too embarrassing in his style,
too strict in his insistence on personal sacrifice and modesty.
They’ve even gone so far as to call him crazy,
a charge to which Paul retorts “If we are beside ourselves it is for God;
if we are in our right mind it is for you (2 Cor. 5:13).”
Paul’s friends have written, looking for ammunition they can use to combat the criticism.
Or, maybe they’ve written looking for help with their own sagging faith
as they, too, wrestle with second thoughts
and a point of view that is both limited and limiting.

In his response, Paul doesn’t try to assert his own authority.
He makes clear that the message he preached in Corinth doesn’t rise or fall
on the strength of his own eloquence or sophistication or even his own sanity.
Instead, his message of hope, of power, of forgiveness and reconciliation is founded
solely on the love of God demonstrated through Jesus’ death and resurrection.
Jesus, the son, is God, the father’s object lesson to the world,
a reminder that there is, after all, a different point of view
than the limited one we chafe under on a daily basis.
Instead of the point of view that says life is a competition,
and sacrifice and suffering are a curse and to be avoided at all costs
and “no matter how cynical we become it’s never enough to keep up,”
there is, in Christ, a whole new point of view.
We read about it last week in the story of Nicodemus
in which Jesus tells the Pharisee leader
that one must be born from above by the Spirit.
Paul echoes Jesus when he writes, “If any one is in Christ there is a NEW creation,
everything old has passed away and everything has become new!”

To look at things from what Paul calls a “human point of view”
means that we notice only what’s in front of us clamoring for our immediate attention.
It means we consider ourselves the center of the universe
unable to see beyond either our current failure OR our current success,
unable to understand setbacks as anything but personal affronts
perpetrated either by our lurking enemies or a fickle, uncaring God.
But Paul writes to his friends in Corinth to say that anyone who is connected to Christ
is not bound by this limited point of view.
Anyone who understands even the least bit of what Jesus was all about
is free to see things more from a divine perspective.
From a divine point of view (which is really from the point of view of eternity),
all setbacks are only temporary,
all suffering merely a prelude to joy,
all failings are but learning opportunities ultimately covered by grace.

You may fear that such a point of view only leads to an “anything goes” kind of ethic,
sort of like rowdy teenagers running roughshod
over a doddering, indulgent grandparent.
But to take advantage of divine grace means only that you still don’t have anything
but the garden variety, limited, human perspective;
a cramped point of view that sees life only in terms of what you can get
rather than the divine perspective that considers only what you can give.

This divine point of view was most completely demonstrated in Jesus
but it really wasn’t totally new with him.
God has offered this alternative way of looking at the world
ever since God first called Abraham to look beyond the safe investment
and pick up and move to a land he’d never seen before.
Our story this morning of Samuel’s anointing of David as the new King
clearly demonstrates that the divine perspective is often new and unexpected
compared to the human point of view
even when the human we’re talking about is the great prophet Samuel.
In our story, God has instructed Samuel to go to a far place
where he will find among the tribe of Benjamin a father and eight sons.
One of those sons is to be the new king of Israel.
When Eliab, the eldest of Jesse’s sons
and a tall, handsome man comes before Samuel for inspection
even Samuel is trapped by a very human weakness
to consider outward appearance over inner character.
“Surely this is the Lord’s anointed,” Samuel proclaims.
But God’s voice in his ear admonishes him saying,
“Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature…
for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance,
but the Lord looks on the heart.”

There should be warning labels attached to our scripture lessons for the day.
Because gaining a divine point of view, seeing things not from a human perspective
but from the framework of eternity, like Paul found in Corinth,
is not likely to make you celebrated among your peers.
The ancient Greek teacher Socrates, so revered today was considered a gadfly
by most of HIS peers. He so consistently spit in the eye of the status quo
that HE was labeled “mad.” It didn’t upset him. In fact, he seemed to revel in the charge!
He described what others called madness as “A divine release of the soul
from the yoke of custom and convention.”
He wasn’t “mad” of course.
He was just able to see beyond the yoke of custom and convention
and gain a wider perspective, a more advantageous point of view.

In The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe,
the bag lady Trudy finally catches up with her alien friends
and, as it nears time for them to leave and go back to their distant home,
Trudy wants to find them the perfect souvenir to take back with them.
The aliens tell her that what they want most of all,
is to have the experience of “goose bumps” that they’ve heard so much about.
With no better idea, she ends up taking them to a play.
Sure enough, when they emerge,
the aliens report that they indeed experienced goose bumps.
“You really liked the play that much,” she asks.
And they reply that they hadn’t been watching the play,
they’d been watching the audience!
“Yeah,” Trudy says, “To see a group of strangers sitting together in the dark,
laughing and crying about the same things, that just knocked them out.”

We don’t have to be from a distant planet to gain a new perspective
but, in a way, being “in Christ” as Paul calls it, does make us aliens.
If we are followers of Christ we can’t help but be different.
While everyone else is watching the play, we might be watching the audience.
When we are “in Christ” we experience a new creation,
a wholly different point of view that to some may seem incomprehensible.
But, as alien as it may make us sometimes feel among our peers
as uncomfortable as it may sometimes make us to be different,
looking at the world from a divine point of view
is guaranteed to give us goose bumps.

[i] Wagner, Jane, The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe, New York: Harper and Row, 1986.
[ii] Willimon, William, Pulpit Helps: Pentecost, “Another Point of View,” June 18, 2006, p. 55.

What We Don't Know John 3:1-17, Romans 8:12-17

What do we know?
We don’t know who first had the idea to do that to a cow and drink it!
We know the sun is a zillion degrees on it’s surface and essential for life on this planet.
We don’t know why, despite all the warnings against it,
people continue to butter up and slow roast themselves every summer at the beach
We know that DNA is the fundamental building block of life.
We don’t know, however, why a certain genetic code in another person
can manifest itself in unique physical characteristics
that make our knees week, our hearts thump, and our brains turn to mush.

There are all sorts of things we know.
Part of what drives the evolution of human society and culture
is the unquenchable thirst for knowledge in our species.
Jerry Springer and Fear Factor notwithstanding, most of us yearn for knowledge
because with knowledge often comes power AND control.
and this assumed knowledge blocks our access to deeper understanding.
Sometimes what we THINK we know
keeps us from realizing that we don’t know much about what’s really important.

In chapter three, John introduces us to a Pharisee named Nicodemus.
Nicodemus is identified as a LEADER of the Jews,
maybe the chairman of the powerful Budget and Finance Committee
or moderator of the Task Force on Theological Evaluation and Review.

Nicodemus comes to Jesus under cover of darkness
and the first words out of his mouth indicate he’s come prepared.
They reveal that he’s been sitting around the table with his fellow Pharisees
trying to understand what’s behind Jesus’ sudden popularity
trying to decide how much legitimacy they should attach to his teaching.

Do you remember Nicodemus’ first words to Jesus?
"We know...." Not "I know," but "We know..."
"We know that you are a teacher who has come from God"
for (in our authoritative opinion) no one can do these signs you do
apart from the presence of God."

"We know...."
It’s Nicodemus’ way of gaining control of the encounter,
his way of letting Jesus know that he comes representing a powerful lobby,
his way of directing the investigation,
disarming Jesus and rocking him back on his heels a bit.

"We know...." Nicodemus says.
In other words, "We have done our homework, considered the options,
weighed the evidenced and come to the irrefutable conclusion,
that you, Jesus, fall within our purview,
and you are worthy of our notice AND subject to our control.

Nicodemus knows his theology.
He knows the traditions, the scriptures, the cultural practices and religious mores.
He comes to Jesus absolutely FULL of all that he knows about God
and about how the relationship between God and human beings works.
Yet, in the span of five minutes or less and with only a few sentences from Jesus,
Nicodemus is reduced from confidence to confusion.
He comes in with a sure and assertive affirmation, "We know..."
But he leaves scratching his head and muttering to himself, "How can this be?"

As a Pharisee Nicodemus has devoted his life
to making sure everything adds up.
As a LEADER of the Pharisees he’s disciplined himself to dot i’s and cross t’s,
keep the edges square and the corners plumb.
His task is not to come up with NEW ideas.
His task is to memorize and apply old ideas,
to be a living repository of the stories of God’s encounters with God’s chosen
and make sure everyone follows the orthodox rendition of Jewish law.

"We know..." Nicodemus tells Jesus.
What he means is that they’ve hashed it over
and figured out which category to put Jesus in.
But it’s what Nicodemus DOESN’T know that’s about to change his life.

"We know..." Nicodemus tells Jesus,
and Jesus responds with two mysterious metaphors,
which make clear to Nicodemus exactly how much he DOESN’T know.
The first, the metaphor of birth.
"No can see the Kingdom of God," Jesus says, "Without being born from above."
Now, all you English majors will notice that Jesus’ metaphor of being born
is expressed in the passive voice.
This is critical. Jesus doesn’t tell Nicodemus, "Go get yourself born."
Nicodemus isn’t the actor here, God is.
This is precisely the part that throws Nicodemus and shakes his confidence.
One doesn’t see the Kingdom of God without being born,
But new birth comes from above, that is, from God
not from anything we do to make it happen.

When I hear Nicodemus’ response to Jesus’ metaphor of birth from above
it may be just my imagination, but it sounds like a little bitterness creeping in.
"How can anyone be born after having grown old."
Most commentators chalk it up to sarcasm,
either that or they suggest that Nicodemus is some kind of simpleton
who gets hung up on the literal meaning of Jesus’ words.
But he’s a leading thinker of his community
so surely he knows what a metaphor is.

I hear in Nicodemus’ reply a note of regret,
the faint reverberation of a person who, in quiet moments at night,
has already begun to entertain the notion that the whole framework
upon which he has hung his life and career has some serious gaps.
I imagine that in the still hours he lies in bed and wonders
why his slavish devotion to the law, his meticulous attention to detail
haven’t brought him more peace, more joy, more satisfaction.

He’s old and he’s attained a level of community status few even dream of,
but the thought of anything new happening in his life,
the hope of something dramatic and life changing is beyond his capability.
And he’s right.
Being born from above doesn’t hinge on HIS capability. That’s Jesus’ point.
It rests only on God’s PROMISE to renew, God’s will to work
in the life of anyone who is open and receptive to it.

That brings us to Jesus’ second metaphor. The metaphor of wind.
"The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it,
but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.
So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit."

Nicodemus is no stranger to spirit talk.
In Hebrew the word for "Spirit" is "Ruah" which is the same word for "Breath"
which is the same word for "Wind."
He knows of the ancient Hebrew stories of creation
where the wind of God hovered over the waters
and brought order out of chaos.
He has been taught since childhood of the breath of God
that was breathed into Adam and Eve giving them life.

But the stories of childhood hardly seem relevant to a grown up world.
They hardly seem relevant to Nicodemus’ and Jesus’ world
where Roman might is the only thing that keeps chaos at bay
and the daily grind has made divine inspiration seem like a fairy tail.
To Nicodemus, wind is only significant as a predictor of coming storms.
Like most adults, he has long forgotten what the tickle of God’s breath feels like
because God’s breath is the kind of thing you have to look for and be open to.
It’s like the touch of a feather on your cheek or the back of your neck
and if you’re not looking for it,
if you’re not expecting it or hoping to feel it,
you’re liable to brush it away, more annoyed than pleased.

Like most adults, Nicodemus thinks he KNOWS that God no longer works
in unexpected or surprising ways;
that the kind of divine inspiration that can cause a person
to leave the familiar and set out for parts unknown ended with Abraham.
that the kind of spiritual courage to stand up to a bully and cry "No More"
ran out with Moses.

It’s what he KNOWS that keeps Nicodemus from the deeper understanding;
that keeps him from the more profound awareness
that God’s spirit isn’t bound by the past or limited by preconceived notions.
Birth and wind – they are two phenomena in Jesus’ time BEYOND knowing.
They are the epitome of mystery.
Though birth happens every day,
and date palms sway with even the slightest breeze,
no one in Jesus’ time can explain either birth or wind. They simply are.

It is the practice of the Pharisees, Nicodemus among them,
to seek God in the familiar, to assume God’s presence
only in that which they were sure of.
But Jesus is more interested in finding God in ways not previously known,
in catching glimpses of God’s kingdom in the most unlikely places.
Nicodemus’ concept of God’s relationship to human beings is based on fear;
doing all the right things so as not to incur God’s wrath.
Jesus’ concept of God’s relationship to human beings is based on love and grace.
accepting the free gift of God’s love through Jesus
and participating in eternal life that begins not at death, but right here, right now.
Paul later reflected Jesus’ line of thinking when he wrote to the church in Rome,
"All who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God.
For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear,
but you have received a spirit of adoption."

It’s good to know things.
Jesus was certainly well schooled in the scriptures and in Jewish history.
But Jesus also knew that sometimes the best thing to know
is how much we don’t know.
We know that God loves God’s world.
but we can’t begin to know all the ways God has of demonstrating that love.
we can’t begin to know, for example, where God draws the line on forgiveness.
So the next time you feel a tickle, like a feather caressing your cheek,
don’t brush it away, but open yourself to the possibility of being born from above,
the likelihood that God’s Spirit is going to lead you in new, unimagined ways.

Shake, Rattle, and Roll Ezekiel 37:1-14, Acts 2:1-13

For the twentieth year People magazine has named the Sexiest Man Alive.
This year it’s Matthew McConnauhey,
that chiseled 36 year old Texan and bonafide movie star.
You know what I have to say to that?
I DEMAND A RECOUNT!

Actually, I prefer to fly under the radar of celebrity.
It would be flattering and OH so glamorous to be the focus of everyone’s attention
FOR ABOUT TWO HOURS!
then, I imagine, it would get terribly tedious.
Sure, you’d have a lot of money,
but you couldn’t go outside without having your picture taken.
You’d be invited to fabulous parties
but you’d have to always be on your guard against people
who only want to know you so they can use you to achieve their own ends.
When Matthew McConnauhey was told of his Sexiest Man Alive selection
his first response was "I like the ‘Alive’ part of that."
I’m sure everybody laughed when he said it,
but I wonder if he didn’t have a wistful look in his eyes.
I wonder if he didn’t say it with a touch of sadness
as the only one in the room who could fully understand
how quickly such celebrity can deaden someone’s spirit,
how completely such frenzied adoration can dry up someone’s soul.

The prophet Ezekiel was acquainted with deadened spirits and dried up souls.
He had been among the first wave of those taken into exile
when the Babylonian army took control of Jerusalem in 597 B.C.
He had been uprooted from his celebrated position as a priest to the royal family
and taken to a foreign land with the most educated and talented of the Jewish elite.
It would be another eleven years before Jerusalem would be destroyed
and another fifty years before the Babylonian grip would be loosened
and restoration of the holy city begun.
In the meantime, it was Ezekiel’s task
to try to make sense of it,
to put himself in God’s position and try to explain why such a thing
could happen to God’s beloved and chosen people.

Why WOULD God allow Jerusalem and the temple to be destroyed
and God’s chosen ones taken into exile?
Ezekiel wrestled with this knotty problem and came to a priestly conclusion.
God allowed it all to happen as a means of purifying Israel.
In much the same way a priest would sacrifice a lamb on the temple altar
for the purification of a person’s sins,
God sacrificed Jerusalem because they had strayed too far.
Ezekiel writes that for a time God hid God’s face from the Jews
because the Jews had dealt treacherously with God.
God allowed them to be taken into exile as punishment for their wickedness.
But almost simultaneously with this judgment, Ezekiel writes,
God’s mercy was activated.
God was moved to begin a process of restoration for God’s beloved.
Even as they were going into exile, Ezekiel writes,
God was putting in motion the plan to restore them once and for all
to the land that God had given them.

Few are willing to adopt Ezekiel’s theology of divine punishment
as an explanation for personal or national suffering,
even if it is couched in terms of sacrifice and divine purification.
Even Ezekiel seems to have little stomach for it after awhile
and is much more eager to focus instead
on the power God has and the choice God makes to restore and redeem
those whom God loves who are feeling dead and dried up.

Ezekiel’s vision of the Valley of the Dry Bones is a powerful vision of hope
in the face of complete devastation.
It’s a graphic depiction of how the Spirit of God that hovered over the waters
at the first creation
is ready still to RE-create when the right time comes.

Ezekiel writes that one day he was led in a vision to a wide valley,
and on the ground all around him there were bones – human bones.
Not only were there bones, but they were DRY bones.
There was no marrow,
no DNA even for the Crime Scene Investigation team to collect.
There was no blood to bring oxygen, no nerves to fire,
no tendons or cartilage with which to join the bones together.
They were sun-bleached and brittle – as lifeless as bones get.

At this point the Spirit asks Ezekiel, "Mortal, can these bones live?"
By all rights Ezekiel SHOULD have said, "No."
It didn’t take a psychic to know what these bones represented.
They represented the nation of Israel,
or what was left of the nation of Israel after living in a foreign land for years
and dealing with the memory of having their national soul, the temple,
desecrated and destroyed.
He should have said, "Who are you kidding? No way! It’s been too long!
That ship has sailed. That pig has oinked. that dog has died.
Instead, Ezekiel said the only other thing he could have possibly said,
He said, "God only knows."
He wasn’t being flippant or sarcastic only realistic.
"God only knows."

Ezekiel was in a tight spot.
For years he’d tried to be the faithful prophet,
interpreting as best he could the events of his day,
treading the fine line all preachers tread as we stand to face the congregation.
It’s the line between challenge and comfort,
between prodding and placating.
He’d listened intently for God’s voice,
continued to speak even when the only word from the Lord was a hard one.
For years after being dragged into exile Ezekiel had no doubt held his breath
confident that better times were just around the corner
until finally he’d hit the wall, come up short one too many times,
faced the reality that one CANNOT anticipate the hand of God.
As hard as you try to read the signs,
in the end there is no telling WHEN, and WHERE, and HOW
God will accomplish what God is going to do.
So when asked, "Can these bones live," Ezekiel spoke the truest word he knew,
"God only knows."

What followed then was an object lesson,
a visual demonstration that even the celebrity prophet Ezekiel
with all his prophetic powers could take things only so far.
Beyond that only God could inspire, only God could give new life.
In his vision Ezekiel prophesied to the bones,
and, sure enough, the bones did re-articulate,
toes to foot, thigh to hip, skull to spine.
And muscle and tendons and even skin appeared, but there was no breath.
Only the breath of God could inspire this army of broken, cut off souls
and like a mighty wind it blew and they stood upon their feet and lived.

On the day of Pentecost so long ago that same wind blew again
and a small band of believers who had been waiting, hoping, wondering,
maybe even doubting Jesus’ promise to give them direction and strength
were filled with the Holy Spirit and given the gift of language –
words spoken in different exotic languages that enabled them to speak THE WORD
to a hungry, willing crowd.
They couldn’t have done it on their own,
it required God’s Spirit to shake them out of their doldrums,
rattle their cages,
and put them on a roll toward living out their purpose in God’s grand scheme.

They were fortunate.
They only had to wait a brief time, not like Ezekiel who may very well have died
before the Exile ended and the Israelites were allowed to return to Jerusalem.
Even if he lived, he would have been 87 years old
when God finally brought the Israelites home.
Each of us here has had, will have, or is having right now
a time when it seems as though God’s face is turned away.
We have had, will have, or are having the experience of deadness,
of dryness,
of separation and desiccation as we wait to be inspired by God’s Spirit.
When will it happen?
When will we find strength to cope with illness or grief?
When will our faith become vibrant again?
When will war end and threats diminish and hatred cease.
God only knows.

But while we wait, the best thing we can do is continue to gather in worship
come to God’s table where we are promised God’s Spirit is present
and listen to advice from the mother of the Sexiest Man Alive.
Matthew McConnauhey was asked in an interview to relate such advice
and he remembered that when he was growing up
his mother would wake him for breakfast.
If he came to breakfast grumbling or in a bad mood
she would lead him back to his bedroom and tell him in no uncertain terms,
"when you come to share a meal with your family
it is best if you focus on the rose in the vase
and not the dust on the table."
I would add that’s it’s also best to focus on the promise
that God is faithful and in God’s own time
God’s Spirit will come like the rush of a mighty wind
to fill us and restore us and empower us.