new journeys

 

SERMON PREACHED AT St JOHN’S, EAST BENTLEIGH

ORDINARY SUNDAY 5 (February 5^th) 1989

(My first sermon as vicar of Holy Trinity, Ringwood East)

 

Readings

Isaiah 6:1-2a,3-8

Psalm 138:1-5,7-8

1 Corinthians 15:1-11

Luke 5:1-11

 

 

 

When I prepare a couple for their child’s baptism, I often find myself pausing over an explanation of the word “sin.” It is a word that we are able to use all too readily in church circles, one that with practice rolls all too easily off our tongues. We too easily forget that in the so-called “post-Christian era” it may have little or no meaning to our neighbours.

So I explore the meaning of the word, especially in the context of the baptismal rejection of “the devil and all his works,” by referring to Paul’s poetic lament within his letter to the Romans.

For I do not do the good I want,

but the evil I do not want

is what I do.

                         (Romans 7:19)

 

The scholars dispute Paul’s reason for placing that claim in his letter, for elsewhere he claims perfection as to the Law. But the experience of involuntary failure is one to which we all relate. 

We do not need to remember as far back as the atrocities of Idi Amin’s Uganda to see the effect of sin in the world. We would do well to remember that the perpetrators of Hitlerian atrocities are, when scratched beneath the skin, mere human beings the same as you or me. And we know in our own lives the experience, if less atrocious, of failing to do as we should, or of doing what we should not.

When all is said and done, “sin” is a universal human experience, a kind of volition towards the dark side of human nature that lurks within each of us.

All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

There is, strangely enough, a sense in which we might take comfort from that. Not a comfort that allows us to become blasé about the tragic sufferings of the world, but a comfort that reminds us that the attempt to drive ourselves to perfection is a futile one. God owes us no favours.

I say that this morning because each of the central characters in each of our readings, Isaiah, Peter, James, John, and Paul, is experiencing a call by God Each responds to that call only after recognising their insufficiency for the task ahead. “My grace,” says God, “is sufficient.” Or, to put it another way, “Yes, you are unworthy, but by the very fact that I have chosen you, and by that fact alone, you shall be made worthy in my sight.”

I remember well the first time I began to reflect on the possibility of entering ordained priesthood, of accepting a vocation. I was hitchhiking in the North Island of New Zealand when I was picked up by a slightly drunk, lapsed Catholic, returning from a day at the races. Almost bitterly he lamented the failure of any of his sons to enter into the priesthood. 

I became as it were his son that day, entering on to the road that brought me to the door of Holy Trinity this morning. But I too knew of my inadequacy for the task ahead, and I still do. I too with Isaiah disclaim any pretence to worthiness, crying out, “what a wretched state I am in … for I am of unclean lips.” I still do. But that knowledge of inadequacy throws me constantly back to the effectiveness and empowerment of the Spirit, the one who remains with us always.

As a community of faith that is something we all share in common. There is a sense in which, by virtue of our baptism, we are all ordained. We are all set aside by our baptism to become instruments of the love of God in the world. The same is true of Troy and Morgan who are to be baptised this morning. We are called to a ministry, a vocation, to offer pleas for this world in our prayers. We are called to that ministry together, as a team, to cooperate towards the proclamation of the Kingdom initiated by Jesus. The Kingdom of love.

There is a song sung in some churches that summarises these thoughts masterfully.

We are poor but we brought ourselves,

the best that we could. 
We are yours, we are yours.

 

We are indeed impoverished, and I do not mean materially. As such we are called not to rely on our own merits but on those of our guide, the Spirit who empowers and equips us.

The onus is on us to find continually our talents and to find ways in which we might exercise them in our community in the service of the gospel. As we do that, and do it together, we shall be surprised by the results achieved by Christ in our community working in and through us.