Sunday, October 12, 2008

Sermon for Sunday October 12, 2008

Text: Matthew 13:44-52


Our cousins to the south paint a portrait of Thanksgiving that most of us here are probably familiar with. I remember when I was just a wee lad in school at the beginning of October we – a Canadian elementary school class – learned about the Mayflower, about pilgrims, and about kind, beneficent Natives who hosted a feast in the brutal cold.

So we too gather together to celebrate a harvest. The harvest of food, certainly, as now most of the fields surrounding the city lie fallow and empty. In about every culture in the Northern Hemisphere there’s some form of autumn harvest festival.

But there’s another element, here, in this place, as well.

Because part of our Christian walk is the time that we take to give thanks back to God for our selves, our time, and our possessions – all signs of God’s gracious love towards us. We give thanks that the kingdom of heaven has come near to us and that we have seen some of its splendours.

So we return the first fruits of our labours back unto God, as each of us chooses to give: not because we’re ordered too, but in the recognition that everything we have comes from God, that God “provided us with every blessing in abundance.

Though it’s often easier to find what’s wrong with our lives than what’s right. Maybe there’s a place for that – after all, there are Psalms of Lament, even a whole book of the Bible is called ‘Lamentations.’ Laments pop up quite often in Scripture, when the heroes of our faith find themselves in dire straights and it seems to them that the Almighty is conspicuously absent. As a Psalm begins, “by the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept.”

Yet there’s something interesting about those psalms – they often shift into praising God at the end, as if the writer remembered that even having a God to which one could complain is something to be thankful for.

A wise friend of mine read a letter that his uncle had written him many years before: “always remember,” it said, “you are the blessings for which your ancestors prayed.” For the most part, it seems, a lot of people over the years have given thanks for things that hadn’t even happened yet.

Consider Isaiah. Isaiah 24 and 25 form part of an eschatological text – it deals with a vision of the end of time. Of course, Isaiah begin chapter 25 by reminding God of things past: “for you have done wonderful things, plans formed of old, faithful and sure.” God had done marvellous things for Isaiah – and even more wonderful things for the poor and oppressed of the land.

But God is going to do even more wonders. “And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever!”

Because you see, for Isaiah and his people, death wasn’t an abstract thing. Death – or mot in Hebrew – was a noun. A person, place, or thing. So Isaiah isn’t concerned that the Lord of Hosts is going to pull a new-age mamby-pamby “crossing over” trick.

No. For Isaiah, DEATH WILL BE DONE. No more death, no more pit. No more condemnation to a kingdom other than God’s. No more tears, for that is his promise – “then the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces.”

No substitutions, exchanges, or refunds. Now, that is something to be thankful for. The death – no, the absolute destruction – of death itself.

Too many of us here – quite possibly even all of us – know all too well that death still plays the end of our lives. We’ve held the hands of loved ones, little ones, and tried valiantly to will away the end of their lives. In our hands we’ve held our hearts and tried to share some of our own life. We’ve prayed, Lord, how we’ve prayed. And it seems that death still comes, relentless.

Death came to Isaiah, as well. In fact, it may seem sometimes like we scramble to find an insurance policy against death – we stop drinking alcohol and caffeine, we exercise, we eat better. But death still catches us. But in Christ, this is not the end.

We give thanks for the kingdom of heaven. Matthew records that Jesus told us that the kingdom of heaven is like a pearl of great value, and if we can sell everything we own to possess it, then we may hold a small piece of the kingdom. But how big a picture is that small piece of the kingdom? We may sell everything we own to possess it – although, to be certain, church giving touches about 1.7% of the average income throughout North America – but we bring our children to be baptized, and come here on Sunday morning to remember our relationship to God.

Like all good parables that Jesus tells, I think that the pearl of great price has two messages. The first is meant for people – to find that small piece of the kingdom, and cling to it. But the second…well, the second is meant to show us just how big that kingdom is.
The life of faith begins with accepting that God’s love is already in our hearts, minds, and souls. Without that, we are nothing. With God’s love poured into our hearts we become Pearls of Great Value. Rather than being something for us to possess, we become most valuable to god.
And all pearls start as but a grain of sand. All mustard seeds are tiny.
Episcopalian Bishop Tom Shaw noted: “their shared secret is that a humble beginning and an almost secret presence are not inconsistent with a great and glorious conclusion. But the parable of the pearl of great price also reminds us of where we choose to place value upon objects. The world’s chief values are not intrinsic but extrinsic; they reside in the God who is above the world and within the world and waiting at its end.”
And that’s what we wait for. That end. As North American Christians – really, as residents of the western half of the northern hemisphere – we automatically place value on what we possess. Buildings, land – what we cunningly call ‘equity’ is what God calls ‘mammon.’ Now having things of value isn’t the problem; it’s when their value becomes what defines us as men and women that we start to lose OUR own value. In the end, God wants us – not our possessions.
The greatest value that we share is our Christian identity; the love of Christ Jesus in which we live, and move, and have our very being. And the Good News of the kingdom – the news that we need, more than ever, to proclaim to the world – are the words of Paul in Romans chapter 8 verse 25:
For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.
Because we are indeed, through the grace of God through the sacrifice of Christ Jesus, pearls of great price.
One thing I will share with you: you, each and every one of you, is a pearl of great value. It is for you that God sought high and low, it was you that Jesus Christ loved so much that he, in fact, sold out everything he had – even his very life – because you are that pearl. Because to possess you, to hold you in the love of God for eternity, Christ finally accomplished what was promised through Isaiah:

He swallowed up death forever.

Jesus Christ gave everything – even unto the point of death – for you. Not because you did something grand. Not because you worked to become a shinier pearl. But because you simply are. You are beloved of God. That’s it. That’s all the training you need.

And there is a ‘therefore’ attached to that…because we possess the kingdom;

Because we are God’s beloved;

Therefore we are like the householder who brings out of his own abundance the gifts for the whole people of God: the old –
- which is the ancient tale of salvation

and the new –
- which is the grace of Jesus Christ.

Because we have been called as disciples of Jesus Christ, because we have been baptized and brought to the Table, therefore we are bound to turn to our neighbors and share what we have with them – share our time, our presence, share ourselves.

All that we have is gift. All that we really – and truly – have is Jesus Christ.

As you gather around your meal this afternoon or tomorrow – remember: thanks be to God for that indescribable gift.

May this be so among us. Amen.

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