Sunday, September 24, 2006

Genuine Wisdom

[This message was shared with the people of Friendship Lutheran Church during worship celebrations on September 23 and 24, 2006.]

James 3:13-4:3, 7-8
Back when Muhammad Ali was heavyweight boxing champion of the world, he was supposedly a passenger on a commercial flight that developed some problems. As you know, Ali never appeared to lack confidence. The airline attendant announced that because of some turbulence, all passengers needed to fasten their seat belts. “Superman don’t need no seat belt,” Ali told the stewardess. “That’s true,” she replied, “But Superman don’t need no plane either. Fasten your seat belt.”

It’s a fine thing for us to have confidence. I believe that God wants us to feel confident in ourselves, children made in the very image of God. I believe that God wants those of us for whom Jesus Christ died and rose--the whole human race--to feel good about ourselves. But arrogance is an altogether different thing.

There are times when arrogance is funny, like when a pompous windbag gets his or her comeuppance. But usually, the arrogant desire to push others aside, to declare that we’re the greatest, or to get what we want at the expense of others is anything but funny. And yet, arrogance is one of the most common of all human behaviors.
  • You see it on the playground where girls and boys conspire to elevate themselves by marginalizing classmates who aren’t as fast or as worldly or as cool as they think they are.
  • You see it at the local PTA meeting, where thuggish moms put others’ kids down while speaking of the wondrous perfection of their own darlings.
  • You see it in the workplace where execs and exec-wannabes put little fictions in their reports so as to look like the next Jack Welch or make others appear to be incompetent oafs.
  • You see it among some retirees who, in the words of an old Jimmy Buffet song, “...quack about fishing; As they slug those rum drinks down; Discussing who caught what and who sat on his butt; But it's the only show in town.”
  • You see it too, in the contests among nations, each one seemingly intent on showing themselves more virtuous, powerful, and important than the other. (We saw a lot of nationalist posturing at sessions of the United Nations General Assembly this past week.)
The wisdom of the world says that pushing your way to the top is just the way things are supposed to be. But, James reminds us today, that isn’t the wisdom that comes from the God we know in Jesus Christ. And this me-first, pseudo-wisdom of the world has its consequences. James tells us:
Who is wise and understanding among you? Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom. But if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth. Such wisdom does not come down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, devilish. For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind...
Followers of Jesus Christ know that arrogance is inconsistent with our faith. We know that it leads us to kill one another, if not literally, then with our words, actions, and attitudes.

We know, too, that Christ gives to all who turn from sin and follow Him the unshakable approval of God. We know that we have God in our corners forever, helping us to become our best selves. Yet the war in the gut that James writes about in our lesson today happens inside those of us who believe in Jesus Christ as much as it does in the guts of non-Christians.

Why is that? Why do we Christians refuse to allow the wisdom that God gives all followers of Christ, just for the asking, to guide our lives?

In his new book, The Story of You, writer and speaker Steve Chandler talks about how we all live out of certain stories that we tell ourselves about ourselves. Chandler is particularly anxious to show us how we sell ourselves short because we don’t believe that we are enough. We think that we’re not good enough, not worthy enough, smart enough, organized enough, fast enough, good looking enough, or charismatic enough.

Sometimes, these stories we tell ourselves result from stories others have told about us. When I was in the sixth grade, the Columbus Zoo held a contest. All the sixth graders in the city were invited to participate, designing a poster that would be used in one of their promotions. The winner's family also would receive a zoo membership. "We'll provide the poster board and material," my teacher, Mr. Jones (not his real name) announced. "Raise your hands if you'd like to get some materials so that you can enter the contest." I enthusiastically raised my hand. But Mr. Jones told me, in front of the class, "No, Mark. You can't enter the contest. You're not good enough at Art."

All of my classmates were angered by this comment and told Mr. Jones so right then and there. I'm no Picasso, but I think that if my classmates hadn't defended me at that moment, I might have believed Mr. Jones' "story" about me. Imagine how many children and adults have absorbed and accepted the false stories that others have told about them and the ways that doing so have prevented them from being everything God imagined for them when He fashioned them in their mothers' wombs!

We who are Christians often tell ourselves limiting false stories. I know Christians who think that they’re not faithful enough to get God’s attention. A man in my former parish, one who was about the most faithful person I'd ever known said to me once, "I'm not really much of a Christian, pastor." "What do you mean?" I asked. "You believe in Jesus Christ. You've sought God's forgiveness for sin. You seek to live according to God's will each day. God says you're good enough because you trust Christ with your life. It's only you who believe otherwise!"

James would say that all these stories about our unworthiness come from the devil. And because we believe those stories, we make a shamble of our lives, often compensating for our perceived inadequacies by adopting an attitude of arrogance.

But whether the stories we tell ourselves lead us to arrogance or inadequacy, the result is that we never tap into the power, love, and goodness of God to feel confident about who we are as children of God or really achieve the particular greatness that is the promise of every human life.

“Those conflicts and disputes among you, where do they come from?” James asks. “Do they not come from your cravings that are at war within you? You want something and do not have it; so you commit murder. And you covet something and cannot obtain it; so you engage in disputes and conflicts.”

Tragically, the terrible consequences of believing these false stories about ourselves can be seen not only in the lives of individual Christians, but also in the lives of many Christian congregations. Gerald Mann tells the true story of a pastor and his family who had something horrible happen as they were arriving in a new community where a local church had called them.

Just as they entered the town, their baby, the couple's only child had a seizure. They rushed him to the local hospital where all attempts to revive him failed. There, in the hospital waiting room where she’d gotten the horrible news, the mother was understandably distraught and screamed out to God, occasionally using profanity.

One of the nurses on duty was a member of the congregation. She told the congregational leaders how the grieving mother had initially reacted to the death of her child. Those leaders, in turn, went to their denomination’s area superintendent to say that because of how “unspiritual” the pastor’s wife was, they wanted a different pastor.

The superintendent told those leaders that the members of that church needed to learn what it is to be the church, a fellowship where imperfect people can share the strength and the power to live which the resurrected Jesus gives to all who believe in Him.

The congregational leaders didn’t like that answer at all. And so, the president of the congregation pulled the new pastor aside and said, “Well, I guess we’re stuck with you. But don’t you ever mention the death of your son or any pain you may be going through. We hired you to make us feel good, not to join you in your family’s difficulties.”

Here you had a congregation whose members believed a false story. They believed that if their pastor had an imperfect life, it would make their lives less perfect. He violated the story they were telling about themselves and they didn’t want him messing the story up by telling the truth that this life isn’t always perfect and that while followers of Christ aren’t always strong, we have a God to Whom we can go for strength and we have the Church in which we can be strengthened by God together.

The Church is the practical, real-life laboratory where Christ gives us new eternal identities born not of looking out for number one, but of letting Number One look out for us and where God’s children look out for each other.

But how does that happen? James says it happens when we ask God to help us own the humble confidence and self-assurance that belong to His children. It comes, he says, when we submit, we surrender to Christ. That’s when we quit having to prove ourselves, bask in God’s approval, and can look beyond ourselves.

“You do not have,” James says, “because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, in order to spend what you get on your pleasures...Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.”

In an old folk tale, a woman, like that pastor and his wife, loses her only child. She goes to the local holy man and asks him to bring the child back to life. He tells her, “Search for the home that has never known sorrow, and, in that home, find the magic mustard seed and bring it to me. Then we will have the power to bring your child back.”

The woman’s first stop was a luxurious palace. Sure that everything would be good and joyful there, she knocked on the door, explaining that she was looking for a home without sorrow. “You’ve come to the wrong place,” she was told. And then the owner of that palace recounted all the sorrows that he and his family had experienced in spite of their wealth.

The woman thought to herself, “Who is better able to help these people than I, who have had such misfortune of my own?” So, she stayed to comfort them. Later, she continued her search. She went from hovels to palaces and in each one, she got so involved in helping other people through their griefs that she was able to deal with her own. In forgetting about herself, she found healing and peace.

Arrogance destroys faith, fellowship, and hope.

Buying into false stories, whether they’re ones that tell us how great we are, or how insignificant we are, or how aggrieved we are, creates conflicts within us and creates our conflicts with others.

Humble surrender to Jesus Christ, allowing Him to enlist us in His army of love for God, love for neighbor, and respect for the earth that God has given to us...
  • builds faith,
  • enhances fellowship, and
  • fills us with hope.
The wisdom of hell says to look out for number one.

The wisdom of heaven says to look up to Christ.

One road leads to turmoil within and turmoil without.

The other, the road of following Jesus Christ, leads to peace in our souls and peace with others.

Which road will you choose? What story will you believe? On whose wisdom will you build your life?

[The story about the woman who goes from house to house is from The Abingdon Preaching Annual 2006.]

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