Night Questions
A sermon preached by Rev. Douglas Fauth at First Congregational UCC,
Trinity Sunday, Year B g June 7, 2009
Texts: John 3:1-17; Isaiah 6:
Since last Sunday I, like many of you, have heard and maybe reacted to the shooting of Dr. George Tiller with mixed emotions of shock and anger. That the murder occurred in a Lutheran church vestibule, where Dr. Tiller was an usher, just underscores the horror and is an affront to people of faith. When I first heard the report on the radio last Sunday afternoon, I listened specifically for the naming of the church—I was half expecting them to say it happened in a UCC church. A bit relieved it wasn’t, I immediately began to wonder how many of those who fight against “choice” would be surprised that, yes, indeed, Dr. Tiller was a church-going person of faith, a long-time member of the church. I wonder how many would be shocked to know that denominations affirm, similar to the UCC, the protection of the full-range of women’s reproductive health care services—including the ELCA, United Methodist and Episcopal churches.
Too often, the message has been that questions in the night—questions of life and faith and belief—are not acceptable; that “good” Christians should never have a moment’s doubt; that answers are plain, and clear, and easily found in “black and white” and are certain…
…this “no-questions” message is, at best, at odds with even Jesus’ own rabbinical tradition; at worst, a destructive understanding that has led many to spiritual and very real violence and terror against self and others.
No, living the questions is important and is affirmed. In the night, Nicodemus comes to Jesus because of signs and words of others—that Jesus somehow fits existing expectations of a coming messiah—Jesus pushes back in ways that cause Nicodemus to challenge, not Jesus, but Nicodemus’ own orthodoxy—his expectations; to be born again and from above about his own preconceptions. Nicodemus struggles to move beyond a literal understanding; who is only offered the winds of chance. Nicodemus becomes one of the most reluctant new-borns on record. His stature, age and religious accomplishments were such that this new birth for him must have been a terrible trauma, an event mixed with pain and blinding new perceptions. He did what most babies do; he squinted against the light and wept with nostalgia for the womb, the old country, the former life. The signs of our age, or even our well-aged expectations of who God is or what God is like, can lead us to night questions…those things that keep us up at night. Sometimes, those night questions are just the thing that lead us beyond mere questions of belief to bolder actions of faith—faith in Christ’s call to work for justice and peace; faith to take a step toward new directions in life; faith to care for ourselves or another—tugging us a few more steps, past where we might go if this thing or that were just something we believed in, to where you or I may be being called in faith. Walter Breuggemann says, "The world for which you have been so carefully preparing is being taken away from you, by the grace of God." It's the last five words that sock it to us! That grace, that free gift of God’s calling and loving claim on us is what makes belief real and moves people from a place of sure and steady belief into the less secure, often less comfortable place of faith! Maybe that’s why you’ll find a lot of respectable Christians putting the emphasis on belief rather than faith. Faith can put us in strange places. A man of place and stature, a Pharisee, the fate of Nicodemus after his mid-night visit with Jesus seems unknown. Rabbi to rabbi, the dialogue moves to a monologue, Jesus’ monologue on God’s intent in Jesus’ life. Jesus delivers a fairly strident critique of Nicodemus’ misunderstanding. You might think Nicodemus’ faith journey with Jesus would have ended there. He would have had too much to relinquish and too much to lose and it would have been too risky. Nicodemus seems to disappear. Yet, John gives us another glimpse of Nicodemus. From the passion narrative, from the 19th chapter of John, come these words: After Jesus had been crucified, Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, though a secret one because of his fear of the religious authorities, asked Pilate to let him take away the body of Jesus. Pilate gave him permission; so he came and removed the body. Nicodemus, who had first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pound. He took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews. It was a crazy thing to do, with the witch hunt that was going on. But wherever else his journey of faith may have taken him, Nicodemus was led to the place where many could not, would not go. His faith seems to dawn on him—gradually. Contrary to the usual use of “born-again” to imply a quick conversion, Nicodemus’ faith grows over time to the incredible point of him being the one who will not abandon Jesus, even in death. I don’t want to completely dismiss moments of revelation that bolster faith in a flash; but most of us—like Nicodemus—will grow in faith, with questions, and be born and re-born, again and again, into new dawns of belief, witness, and action. Throughout church history, summary statements of belief, rather than faith were used to detail what it means to be Christian. That’s what I find annoying about so much theologizing—too often, we get bogged down into belief debates on doctrines like, well, the Trinity for one example, to the point where our heads are so high into heaven that we’re no earthly good. Look at the historic creeds of Christendom and they are, by definition, statements of belief. But that’s giving short shrift to God’s calling on us to follow in Christ’s way. The creeds don’t really go into God’s action and our response or re-action. It was a bold thing the Accept the cost and joy of discipleship, Be God’s servants in the service of others, Proclaim the gospel to all the world and resist the powers of evil; Share in Christ’s baptism and eat at his table, And join Christ in his passion and victory. Faith is different than belief. Faith is that less intellectual, more visceral, gut-level live-it-out version of belief. Faith is about cost as well as joy --entering into others’ woundedness and serving the servants; faith proclaims good news that resists evil; faith compels us to eat at the Christ-table, a feast of bread and cup, of life and salvation, nourished in spirit and by the company of some pretty unusual table guests; it’s by faith that we are joined to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus as participants, not spectators. Dag Hammarskjold, was Secretary General of the U.N. in the middle of the last century and something of a Christian mystic. Hamarskjold said, "For all that has been, thanks. For all that will be, yes"—a statement of faith—a willingness to be acted upon and to act in faith. May each of us be led as the Spirit of God wills and may we, too, be people who respond, not only with thanks for what has been, but yes for what is going to be. May our night questions take us from ponderings of belief to an incredible journey of faith. PRAYERS of the PEOPLE Let us pray. God of the insistent Spirit, we feel you within us, rearranging our loves and desires, refurbishing our hearts as your home. God of the intimate Spirit, you not only treasure all that once happened, you are the promise of all that is to come. You do not hold yourself far away from us; you know our deepest needs as your own. God of the empowering Spirit, you call us to come to ourselves in faith; to be born anew and discover your path for our lives. Pull us from being hesitant, cold, distant and unresponsive to your loving call. Help us to recognize in our inner being and in the people and events around us, your grace which confirms belief and moves us to action. In these days we bear concerns for the world around us. Hear our prayers, in deep sighs and words of deep need— Save us, O God, from being idle bystanders. Move us from belief to action. Grant us your Spirit, that we may be instruments of life and hope. All of these things we pray in the name of the One who calls us to new life. Amen.
