Gallery of Faith
March 9, 2014 | Patrick Preheim
Recently Josh Dahl shared with me a few of his experiences from a football trip down south. While the connection between football and Hebrews chapter 11 might seem a stretch, bear with me. The football team went to Texas. In Texas football is religion. And if football is religion then the stadium is the great temple in which sacrifices are made, teachings imparted, and the sacraments savored. The high school stadium where Josh played resembled our Griffiths stadium at the U of S, only it was even nicer. In the halls were picture—pictures of all the players from that particular high school who had played in the NFL. The locals were reminded of their storied history every time they went out to practice or play. Guest athletes were served notice that this school produces greatness. A bit like Hebrews 11.
As I listened to Josh describe the scene I thought about ways in which I am inspired to greatness in my faith. I don’t like being shamed or guilted into noble action. I don’t like being ordered to ethical behaviour as if I have no choice in the matter. I don’t like being threatened to do what is right with the hammer of eternal damnation hanging over my head. You may like these forms of motivation but I don’t. No, I like stories. Stories inspire me to do what needs to be done even if there is sacrifice. Word pictures of the great ones from my school of faith give me courage, hope, and a willingness to pursue excellence. And I am not alone.
Inigo Lopez de Loyola was born of a noble Basque family in the kingdom of Castile. The youngest of thirteen he spent his youth as a courtier and later as a soldier in the service of the Spanish king.
In 1521 he took part in the unsuccessful defense of Pamplona against the French. During the battle he was struck in the leg by a cannonball and suffered a grievous injury. Back in his family castle, he underwent excruciating operations, followed by a prolonged convalescence. To pass the idle time he requested something to read—preferably the chivalrous romances of which he was particularly fond. Instead he had to settle for a collection of pious lives of the saints—all that could be produced. He devoured these books, at first simply as an escape from boredom. Gradually, however, he began to find them fascinating. In the long months of his recovery he started imagining what a great honor it must be to serve the Glory of God. As zeal for such a life began to take hold, he resolved, upon his recovery, to reform his conduct and to imitate the example of the saints in dedication to God’s service.
Robert Ellsberg, All Saints: Daily Reflections on Saints, Prophets, and Witnesses for Our Time, p. 327
Thus began the ministry of St. Ignatius of Loyola and the Society of Jesus. A courage rooted in faith has enabled the Jesuits to go places and do things others would not. Their commitment to social justice and interfaith dialogue, and their willingness to put the cause of the gospel ahead of national interests have led to countless acts of mercy and countless martyrs. And it all started with reading about the pious lives of those who have by faith gone before us. Perhaps there are some this morning languishing with a grievous wound to body, mind or spirit. Perhaps boredom with life, with work, with uncertainty is taking a toll. Why not allow the stories of saintly lives to be a channel for God’s Spirit? It may not produce Ignatius style results, but it can’t hurt.
Julian of Norwich is another character from church history that never ceases to inspire me. She is a woman whose spiritual vision reminded people of God’s eternal and abiding presence during in a very tumultuous time. “The late fourteenth century was a time of terrible upheaval. With the Black Plague, the Hundred Years War, and the crisis of church authority occasioned by the long papal schism, Europe was burdened by an atmosphere of anxiety” (Ibid, p. 210).
Julian did not directly address the major political and ecclesial crises. But it cannot be said that she was remote from the concerns of her day. In an age of anxious uncertainty, Christians were desperate to seek assurances of salvation, of the meaning of suffering, and of the power and goodness of God. Julian’s answer spoke directly to these concerns. Her central insight was that the God who created us out of love and who redeemed us by suffering love, also sustains us and wills to be united with us in the end. This love, and not sin, fundamentally determines our existence. Evil has no independent status; whatever we may suffer, God has already suffered. “The worst,” as she noted, “has already happened and been repaired.” As for our suffering in this life, insofar as we share Christ’s passion we may look forward as well to sharing his joy in heaven. Thus she could say, in her most famous and characteristic words, “All shall be well, all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well” (Ibid, 212)
We have a musical setting of Julian’s text in our StJ. As we sing #98 StJ let this tune and text speak to disquiet in our souls, let it speak to the tumult caused when nations rage, let it remind us that ultimately and eternally God’s love carries the day.
The last two biographies came from this tome (hold up All Saints); it gives the reader a saint a day. There are a significant number of stories from this little book published by the Quakers (hold up Victories Without Violence) which I would love to share today, but time limits me to a short account of Rotarians originally recorded in “The Manchester Guardians”.
During a state of inter-racial and inter-religious rioting in a large...city, the local Rotary Club decided to try the influence of Rotary fellowship. In pairs the Rotarians of opposing races and religions walked through the streets arm-in-arm to the amazement of the rioters of both factions, and shortly peace came to the city.
It was not done by adopting resolutions or by mobilising the Rotary Club and making a military for of it; it was done by Rotarians letting it be observed that they were friends.
(Victories Without Violence, Compiled by A. Ruth Fry, p. 58)
If the Rotarians can do this why couldn’t the Ukrainian Catholics and Russian Orthodox walk arm and arm through the Crimea? If the Rotarians can do this why can’t the children of Abraham walk arm and arm through the Central African Republic, the Congo, Palestine, or through Indonesia? If the Rotarians can do this why can’t we link arms with our Saskatoon brothers and sisters in Christ who vote differently than we do or interpret the bible differently than we do? Interesting questions which one little account can provoke...
So I have offered three stories, but there are so many more out there. I have shown you the All Saints book and Victories Without Violence, and there are still other possibilities to nourish the soul with saintly tales. 131 Christians Everyone Should Know if a fabulous read includes evangelists like Dwight Moody, theologians of the early church, and my favorite chapter, a section devoted to preachers. Good stuff. Or there is the Cornelia Lehn children’s book Peace Be With You. If a person likes 20th century Mennonite history this little work is called Mennonite Martyrs (by Aron Toews) and has a number of excellent stories, one of which is about Bob Dick’s ancestors. Titus and Linda Peachey have a wonderful little gem, Seeking Peace, with modern day stories of Mennonites from around the world struggling to live their belief in peace. Oh yea, and then there is this book—the Bible. And it is from this good book that I wish to close my sermon today.
Of all the heroes of the faith highlighted in the book of Hebrews none is more prominent than Jesus Christ. “The recipients of the letter were on the point of giving up their Christian faith and returning to the Jewish beliefs and practices of their ancestors.” (Introductory paragraph to Hebrews in the New Oxford Annotated bible With the Apocrypha expanded edition, Revised Standard Version (1977)). To win them back the author referenced stories; stories about Moses / Abraham / Rahab, but most detailed in Hebrews is the account of Jesus.
With John’s gospel Hebrew’s affirms that Jesus was there at the beginning of all creation, heir of all things, bearing the very imprint of God. Jesus, the great I Am, chose to forgo that place above the angels and he came to dwell with us. He came for us: to help us, to guide us, to lead us to deeper life. The book of Hebrews spends chapters outlining how Jesus took of the role and responsibilities of Moses—Jesus is now the one who leads his people from slavery to the Promised Land; Jesus is the high Priest who administrates a new law; Jesus is the intermediary for us with God. And Jesus doesn’t stop there, according to the book of Hebrews.
Jesus sacrifices himself so that no further animal sacrifice will be necessary. Chapters in Hebrews are spent on atonement—how Jesus makes “at-one-ment” possible. The sacrifice of Jesus covers all the wrong that has happened and all that will be committed. God in Christ, as Julian noted, has determined that love and not sin will carry the day. Given our human delusion with morbid sacrifice 2000 years ago, perhaps this death of God on the cross and resurrection were the only way to chart a new path. We just got to believe that God is Love and live like it.
So no more regrets about the mistakes of the past. No more bitterness toward others. No more morbid sacrifices to appease your idea of an angry God. We are invited to join our spiritual ancestors in accepting this redeemed image of God and living like it. And that is how the author ties off the section about the examples of faith who have gone before us and Jesus, and it is how I will end as well. “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is se before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Amen.
