December 31, 2006

Epiphany and John Wesley ‘s Covenant Service

Fully Resolved

Revelation 21:1-6; Matthew 25:31-46

The Reverend Richard E. Allen, Jr.

  

One night last week, one of the networks presented a show in which hidden cameras watched as everyday people were given a number of situations calling for moral decisions.  One of the scenarios involved giving too much change to those paying for a meal.  Diners had to decide what to do with an extra five-, ten-, twenty-, or hundred-dollar bill in their change, and all the while, the cameras rolled.  In another set-up, two actors, a man and a woman, engaged in an argument in a public place.  In one version of these little dramas, the man was verbally abusive; in another, the woman repeatedly hit her male companion.  Predictably, some passers-by stopped to help, and others did not.  Women stopped more often than men, though neither was as likely to intervene when it was the female actor dishing out verbal or physical abuse.  Repeatedly the announcer asked viewers, “What would you do in this situation?”

 

My guess is that the show’s ratings were high, given that people love to watch other people.  And we tend to think that we ourselves would do well on such a pop-quiz on our own moral values.  I know that I think to myself that if I were given extra change, “I’d take the money back.”  Sure.  But taking back a hundred dollar bill to a cashier might require a bit of an internal conversation.  And I know myself enough to know that I’d be reluctant to get involved in a public dispute between two other people, no matter what it looked like.

 

Thinking more about the moral issues raised by the program, I remember a class I took years ago on “the will of God.”  After looking at some biblical texts, the teacher asked a question that has haunted me down through the years.  “Do you decide to do the will of God in advance, no matter what it is?” he asked.  “Or do you wait until you know God’s will in a particular situation before you decide whether or not to actually DO God’s will?” 

 

In other words, am I committed to doing the right thing, even if it is uncomfortable or costly, or do I want to judge the situation first, and only then do I decide whether or not I’m going to do the right thing?  Doing God’s will, I believe, often challenges my own most firmly held suspicions, prejudices, and beliefs.  The real question often is twofold:  am I open to see God’s will as better than my own, and, am I willing to change accordingly?  Honestly, neither is an easy commitment to make, I’ve learned through the years.  Like most of us, I’m more willing to assume that my will is God’s will, and not worry too much about change.

 

 Of course, the problem is that life has a way of putting us before its cameras, even if the networks are far away.  Faced with a difficult situation, sometimes we’re called to make a choice that is not only difficult, but costly to us as well.  Worse, we sometimes have to make choices that prove costly not merely for ourselves, but for those we love.  My teacher’s question has taught me that in those times, for me at least, it’s best that I’ve committed myself to doing God’s will, to the best I can know God’s will.

 

John Wesley, Anglican priest and founder of the Methodist church, knew something of the importance of committing oneself to the God’s will and God’s way.  During his lifetime he invited Methodists to make such a commitment every year, often on New Year’s Eve, and we continue that tradition today.  As the hours run out on one year, we are given the opportunity to put the next year wholly in God’s service.  We’re invited to give ourselves, in advance, to doing God’s will.

 

Since these are words that originated in the 18^th Century, more than 200 years ago now, perhaps we should not be surprised that the words of John Wesley’s covenant feel awkward on our tongues and ears: 

“I give myself completely to you, God.

 Assign me to my place in your creation. 

Let me suffer for you. 

Give me the work you would have me do.”

Yes, the words feel a bit outdated, and perhaps the sentiment they express feels awkward as well.  Yet, in spite of the discomfort, it seems right to pause here in the last few hours of one year to consider commitments for our lives in the year we’ll soon be living.

 

The point of the covenant is not unlike the theme of today’s lessons.  In the passage from the 25^th chapter of Matthew, for example, the nations are judged, neither by their creeds, nor by their scriptures, but by specific actions on behalf of the wounded, the poor, the prisoner, the desperate.  As a writer, Matthew surely knows the power of words, but even he hears the Lord’s call not so simply say the right things, but to do the loving things.  Matthew 25, especially today’s parable, is an invitation to the church to walk the walk, as it were.

 

Today’s other lesson, from Revelation 21, is a vision of what’s in store for those who remain faithful to God in the midst of persecution and its resultant temptation to take an easier way.  You do not need to understand all the visions of this fantastic book to get the point that’s at the heart of it:  in the days when this was written, the church was under attack, and Christians sometimes had to pay an ultimate price for their loyalty to

 

 the faith.  The moments of facing the lions is a difficult time to make a moral choice, John knew.  The author is writing to people who have to decide, in advance, to be faithful.  Waiting to see the cost might tempt one too much.  These Christians entered every day with a sense of God’s abiding covenant in their own hearts.  And they pray that we will, too.

 

In truth, this kind of commitment to doing the right thing has been in my mind as I’ve joined others in mourning the death of Gerald Ford.  A part of our national grieving process has been to remember something of President Ford’s own style of leadership.  Though many qualities and several key moments have been remembered in our media in recent days, surely the defining moment of Ford’s presidency was his pardon of his predecessor, Richard Nixon.  Nixon was dangling in the wind of bitterness, having been caught in the scandal that grew out of the Watergate break-in, its genesis and its subsequent cover-up. 

 

In order, as Ford said, to heal the nation’s wounds, the new president pardoned Nixon.  Ford’s decision infuriated those who thought that Nixon should be tried, as a way to show that no person was above the law, but the decision also angered those who still believed in Nixon’s innocence.  Offending both sides at once, the pardon might well have cost Ford the succeeding presidential election.  But, right or wrong, Ford made a decision and stood behind it.  Long before, he had committed himself to the right choice, not merely the political choice.

 

Today we have the opportunity to make the same kind of decision.  As we go into this New Year, we’re invited to take up a clean slate.  As we begin afresh, we are invited to make a commitment, in advance, to the right choices in the coming year. 

 

God invites us to this covenant, to giving ourselves anew to the God who gives us this clean, new, year.  As we gather at this table, we recall that we follow the one who made difficult, costly choices on our behalf.  And we are asked to commit ourselves to those kinds of choices.

 

What about it?  What choice will you make, now, to assist you in making the right choices as the new year unfolds?  What can you decide to do, now, before the temptation to waver is upon you?  Now is the time to decide. There are no cameras watching, no announcer in the background.  The nation is not watching.  But God watches.  God cares.  And God is here. 

 

It is the time to decide.  Will you give this year to God, fully and freely?  What do you say?

 

Amen.