It’s an amazingly popular computer game.  In fact, over the last eight years, it has generated about $4 billion in sales, or an average of half a billion dollars a year, for Electronic Arts, its publisher.  That’s all the more amazing because this game is based on an old concept, and it was first played as a board game, in the winter of 1860.  Back then, this cultural icon, nearly as popular as “American Idol,” “Star Wars,” and “Harry Potter,” was called “The Checkerboard Game of Life.”  The title was simplified to “Life,” and when it was transformed from cardboard to computer screen its name changed again.  Now it’s known as “the Sims.”

 Though there’s no violence and some of us find it quite tame, even boring, The Sims has found a niche with the young – especially young girls.  And some even suggest that it has a redeeming social quality:  it’s a way to learn to do the ordinary things that families and their members do, and to painlessly learn consequences of decisions.  Quite simply, the Sims offers training in how to life your life.  And it does it well, and, according to a recent NY Times story, it makes a handsome yearly profit for Electronic Arts. (“Exploring Fantasy Life and Finding a $4 Billion Franchise,” The NY Times, April 16, 2008.)

 That article about the popularity and the potential of The Sims to help young people grow into responsible adulthood started me thinking:  too bad we don't have some game like that in the church.  Too bad we don't have a training ground for Christians, something that would equip us for the storms of the Christian life ahead.

But then I thought:  we DO have a training program in Christianity. It's not exactly a computer game like The Sims.  It's our worship.  Think about it:  worship has everything we need to prepare us for life outside worship, in the 'real' world.

 Actually, Bishop Will Willimon brought me to the idea.  Here's how he describes the preparation for our faith inherent in the "simulation" of our worship.  First, he reminds his readers that the Christian faith is a life-long commitment to true counter-cultural living, living that requires discipline, devotion, and training.  Then Willimon notes that when the church’s doors open after worship, we need a bit of training as he says it, to “walk in [Jesus’] loving way, no matter what nine out of ten average American do.” (“Dependents,” Pulpit Resource, April, May, June, 2008, page 19.)

 In his typically blunt, preacher’s voice Willimon then says, “So we get you in here and say [that] in the name of Jesus I command you to do certain tasks, hard tasks that are against your natural inclination like, ‘Stand and praise God more than you praise yourself,’ or ‘Forgive your enemies.’” (Ibid., page 19.)

 To Willimon's I would add others:  The Offering is training not merely in giving.  It's that, too, of course, but it is also a reminder that what we often think of as "ours" really isn't -- all that we have comes from God.  And God is an infinitely giving God.  God gives us to help us learn to give to each other.  And God gives to us so that we will remember that we remain connected to one another.  We are a community of faith, not "every man for himself." 

 And the Creed, too, is a kind of training in the faith.  As I said recently, creeds are not just about saying our beliefs, but about being shaped INTO our believing.  Standing to affirm what we believe, or hope to believe, or what we wish we might believe, or what we wonder if we can ever believe – wherever you stand on that –standing to affirm the faith is a way of thinking about what we really believe, down deep.  And that, in itself, is a way of preparing to explain, share, or defend our faith "out there." 

 And speaking of “sharing,” sharing the Peace of God, is training in walking the walk of faith.  (Now, since the "peace" generates so many criticisms AND affirmations, I know this is a touchy one!)  The Peace is not just biblical -- we're called to greet each other with a kiss.  It's also a reminder that the body of Christ needs people like me and unlike me, folks whom I naturally love and others whom I am working to love and a few whom I'm hoping to tolerate.  If heaven is as diverse as I suspect it is, then I need the training I receive in Christian community that sharing the peace of Christ offers to me.  Not to mention my need to accept others on the same terms that Christ has accepted me:  just as I am.

 But none of this is easy.  That's why I remind you, as Bishop Willimon reminded me:  we are not alone in our quest to lead a faithful Christian life "on the outside."  We are not alone simply and wonderfully because Jesus has promised us the Holy Spirit, and God has provided nothing -- and no ONE -- less.

 Did you hear how the lesson from the gospel of John began?  Listen again:  "If you love me," Jesus says to his disciples, including us, "you will keep my commandments.  And I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever."  Jesus is leaving the disciples, and he knows better than to think that the disciples will easily get along without him.  Jesus knows better, because he knows the disciples.  He’s been with them when they've misunderstood him, misinterpreted his teaching, and misbehaved enough on their own. He knows that he cannot just trust his followers to their own devices. 

So Jesus promises help:  he promises the Holy Spirit.  Jesus knows that, on their own, the disciples will have a tough time loving God.  And Jesus seems to understand also, that they will have an even tougher time loving one another when he is gone.  So he tells them to love each other, then he promises that they will not be alone.

And, among other gifts, the Holy Spirit gives us the church, and, miraculously, the Holy Spirit continues to meet us in our worship.  We are called to a high, holy task:  walking out of this building and into a hostile world. 

But here's the good news:  We don't walk alone.  The Holy Spirit of God goes with us. And this good news, too:  we get a bit of practice in living the Christian life.  We get it right here in worship.

I guess what's true for me is also true for you.  I need the spirit, and I need the practice of being here week after week, singing the songs, hearing the scripture, listening for God's voice in the silence, learning to love my neighbor, standing to affirm that I believe.  I need all that, and more.

Alone, I'm a mess.  Together, we're not much better.  But we can learn.  And, even when we don't see Christ in our midst, we have the Spirit.  I'm grateful for that gift.  I need God by my side.  Otherwise, I'm dead.  With the Holy Spirit, I've got a bit of a chance.  A chance at life.

But practicing this new life in Christ, really living it, day after day, in the trenches of our war with evil in the world, is not easy.  So here we are:  holding each other up, and holding each other accountable.  And hoping, yes, praying, for God’s spirit to counsel us in this complex job of living faithfully what we say we believe. 

Now let's stand and learn something of what we believe, as we affirm our faith using words given us by other saints who've gone before.

Amen.