|
SERMON
In classical music, Franz Schubert is probably most widely known for a piece of music that he never completed - due to his untimely death at the age of 31. His so-called "Unfinished Symphony" is of the stock in trade of symphony orchestras all over the world. But I wonder if you know that Schubert was responsible for at least six other major works that were also incomplete. But in all those cases the omissions could hardly be attributed to his death. He was, in fact, very much alive at the time they were published. Schubert wrote six Latin masses, but all of them were fundamentally incomplete. In every one of those masses he never once mentioned the church. Every time he set the Credo to music, he intentionally made no reference to the church.
The creed states: "I believe in God… I believe in Jesus Christ… I believe in the Holy Spirit… I believe in the holy catholic church, the communion of saints…" But when Schubert set the creed to music, he deliberately omitted the church. Sadly, the reason for that decision was neither aesthetic nor musical. The simple fact is that Franz Schubert intensely disliked the church. He had been raised in a home so narrow and bigoted that, when he grew up, he completely excluded the church not only from his music, but also from his life. Whatever faith he had, he found other ways to express it.
Most of us, at times, could empathize with the man. When we look at the community of the redeemed we're sometimes inclined to conclude, as Paul Tillich put it: "But the redeemed don't look redeemed!" In fact, some of them are so sour-faced they look like they've been baptized in lemon juice. And it's true. We who are the recipients of grace can be so graceless at times, even among ourselves, especially among ourselves. We know in theory that we're all sinners in need of forgiveness. But let a brother or sister fall - sin - do something stupid and destructive, and we are often among the first to criticize. Chuck Swindoll was sadly correct when he noted that the church is the only outfit he knows of that shoots its wounded.
And it's not only that we're disappointed in other Christians. We disappoint ourselves. Every one of us can look into the dark places of our lives (if we dare) and discover that we, too, can be just as mean and petty as the rest. Our criticisms of the church are often autobiography. Then, of course, denominations sometimes do things that are foolish and embarrassing. When a higher court of the church pushes a particular agenda, you can count on it that there will be those who will be terribly upset and feel that the church leaders are out of touch with the members; and in some cases they may be right.
Christians may love the Lord, but it can be a real of test of faith to belong to the church of which He is head. So why not do what Schubert did and simply sever all ties with this ecclesiastical monster? I'll tell you why. Because there is much to be said on the other hand; and we owe it to ourselves to listen. So before anyone decides to sever all ties with the church, they would do well to know the rest of the story. Let me suggest a few points to ponder.
1. If you're fed up with the church, first consider this. When we talk about the church's failures, we would be wise to consider what the church has tried to accomplish. You can only assess failure accurately in light of what has been tried. How can you know how far short of the mark they fell if you don't know what the target is?
That's true of people as well as churches. There are some people who hardly ever fail. Why? Sometimes it's because they're not willing to attempt anything they're not already sure of. They've never been stretched - never had their limits tested. Frankly, some of us would be better men and women if we had failed - if we had given our best effort to something so demanding that it required everything we had, and then called for more.
That, after all, is the character of all Christian ideals. Think about them: patience, chastity, forgiveness, purity of heart, gentleness - they are all within our grasp. And yet we know at the same time that they are always a little beyond our reach; we never quite get them perfectly. But despite our inability to achieve them perfectly, we know deep inside how right and good they are. And to come near, at times, can be a great and noble failure.
G. K. Chesterton once debated a well-known atheist who began by making a long list of the church's failures. Chesterton waited patiently until the man was finished with his list. Then he proceeded to berate his opponent because his list was too short! He himself could have made a longer and better list of the church's failures. But then Chesterton went on to speak about what the church had attempted. It had tried nothing less than to turn the world upside-down, to shape a new civilization, to define and demonstrate a new way of being human. And of course the church had failed! But it was a marvelous, glorious failure. On the other hand, nobody could accuse atheism of failure. Why? Because it had attempted nothing - and succeeded.
The same is true of you and me personally. My faith has attempted to shape me into the likeness of Christ. I'll confess it hasn't succeeded. But despite all the failures of my faith, I am inexplicable without Christ. I know what a challenge it is to deal with my prejudices, my inordinate self-love, my distrust. I know, quite personally, how much grace it takes to make one sinner even a little better. Nevertheless, I belong to Christ. So for me the central issue is not whether my faith has failed me, but where I would be without Christ. That is the first thing to be said in response to our disappointment with the church. It's not a question of where the church has failed, but where we are because of what it has attempted in the name of Jesus Christ.
2. The second thing to note is that the church's failure doesn't contradict its message, it confirms the message. From the beginning the church has insisted that our human nature is fallen and that therefore all institutions, including the church, are subject to sin. We can go ahead and complain that the church is imperfect, but the church would be the first to agree. In fact, the failure of the church is an essential part of the gospel. The very failure about which we complain is what permits sinners like you and me to belong.
Groucho Marx, one of my favorite theologians, put the matter in perspective when he said that he wouldn't want to belong to any club that would let him in. That may sound like gratuitous self-deprecation, but there's more than a little truth behind the humor. If the church has to be perfect in order to satisfy us, then the very perfection of which we approve will exclude us from membership - because we're not perfect. Remember this: None of us belongs to the church because we're perfect; we belong because we are loved and forgiven.
So there are two good things to keep in mind when we're tempted, like Schubert, to exclude the church from our lives. First, consider not what the church has failed to do but what it has attempted. And second, remember that the church is a fellowship of redeemed sinners (who would be the first to admit it).
3. But to me, all that is best about the church, all that we would miss if we were to divorce ourselves from the church, is all wrapped up in one marvelous word. The word is "catholic." According to the Apostles' Creed, the church in which Christians believe and to which they belong is "the holy catholic church." And what does the word "catholic" mean? Let me tell you, briefly, four things that the word catholic means. It means always - everywhere - everybody - and eternal.
"Catholic" means always. There are those who say they don't need the church in order to be a Christian. "It's enough to have the New Testament," they will say, and that sounds plausible. But there's a profound sense in which the New Testament is the church's gift to us. If there had been no community of faith (no church), the New Testament would never have been written. The epistles and even the gospels were written to correct and guide and instruct and build up the church in its infancy.
Or sometimes people will say that the church is dispensable "as long as we have the faith." As long as we know and believe in the story of Jesus and his love, what else do we need? But where did that belief come from? Where did you hear the story of Jesus? If we're Christians, it's because parents and teachers and pastors and other Christians taught us and nurtured us in our faith. The fact is that the New Testament knows nothing of a Christian who isn't a member of the church. If you were to tell St. Paul that you were a Christian but didn't want to have anything to do with the church, he'd think you were crazy. How could you belong to Christ and not be a part of his body? He'd say that if a member of the body were missing, the body would be dis-membered.
No, you leave out the church and you cut yourself off from the faith. There is no way you can get around the church, or over it or behind it, to find what existed before it. Always there is a community of faith. Always! "Catholic" means always.
"Catholic" also means everywhere. It's good to be reminded of that fact because often, I'm afraid, our picture of the church tends to be rather provincial. Strange as it may seem, we need to be reminded from time to time that Christianity didn't begin in North America - or even in Europe. It began in the Middle East. And the fact that the church came to North America is credit to those who came here from other lands bearing the gospel.
In fact, one distinguished historian said that he could think of no country that received the faith from one of its own countrymen. It spread like a benevolent infection as men and women went to other lands to share the good news until it covered the world. The church is catholic, and "catholic" means everywhere - which brings us to a third meaning of the word.
"Catholic" means everybody. When I, as a Presbyterian minister, baptize a child, I'll often say, "This child is now received into the holy catholic church." Later someone may ask, "Why did you baptize that child into the Catholic Church? We're Presbyterians, not Catholics!" When that happens, I remind them that it is the "holy catholic church" and not the "Roman Catholic Church." There's a difference. The word "catholic" means all-embracing, all-including. In other words, they are baptized not into the Presbyterian or Methodist or Episcopal or Roman Catholic Church, but into the holy catholic church which embraces them all - along with a good many other fellowships in the Body of Christ.
And that all-inclusiveness means that there is a place for you - as a person, and not as a number. Occasionally we'll confuse numbers with members. But you can't substitute the language of mathematics for the language of belonging and love. "How many members do you have here?" someone will ask me. I really don't know - and frankly I don't care all that much. But ask me, "Who are the members of your flock?" and about that I care very much. When you talk numbers and talk members you're talking two different languages.
I read of a woman who had four children. One of them became quite ill and soon it was apparent that the little boy would die. The doctor who broke the news to her apparently didn't do it very well. He was talking the wrong language. The woman said, "He asked me how many children I had. When I told him I have four, he seemed to think that because I had four I could afford to lose one." She didn't see it that way. Love doesn't see it that way. Numbers can tell us that four-take-away-one is three. But love says that four-take-away-one can leave an empty aching heart. "Catholic" mean everybody. Everybody belongs. Everyone is precious.
"Catholic" means always - everywhere - everybody. Here's one last thought: "Catholic" means eternal - it transcends time and space. I read a touching story of a young minister in England who preached to a small evening congregation. The custom in those parts was to offer the sacrament of communion to those who stayed after the service. Well, so few people remained that for a moment he wondered if he should continue. But he did. A little later he came to that part of the liturgy that says, "Therefore with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify thy glorious name, evermore praising thee and saying…" He read it again. "Therefore with angels - and archangels - and with all the company of heaven…" He paused, and then he said, "God forgive me; I did not realize I was in such company."
The church may appear only two or three gathered in his name. But by God's reckoning they are an innumerably company as earth and heaven are joined; because the church militant on earth and the church triumphant in heaven are one. That means that at any service of worship it's easy to count noses, but impossible to count our number. Think of the glorious company of heaven that joins us in our praise. Not only angels and archangels, but the noble army of martyrs, that fellowship of prophets and saints and heroes out of every nation and generation who fought the good fight, who kept the faith, who finished the race. The church on earth is only the tiniest fragment of the whole church joining earth and heaven.
That's what we mean when we confess with one breath: "I believe in the holy catholic church, the communion of saints." Even as we remember those dear to us who are now in glory and we hold them in our love as God holds them as well; so they, too, remember us and pray for us and encourage us on our pilgrim way. There is no such thing as a solitary Christian! Every Christian is, by faith, a part of the church on earth. And at every moment every Christian is surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses who love him, but on another shore and in a greater light.
For many of us our best hope and expectation is to be reunited with those dear to us who have already entered into God's rest. Some of us long to see little ones who died and who carried our hearts with them in their departing. They are, all of them, members of the church; because the center of their faith in heaven is the same Jesus who is the center of our faith on earth.
Tell me something: How could I sever all ties with that church? If I were to do so, I'd be cutting myself off from all those who have loved me and shaped my life. I'd be divorcing myself from the Savior whose presence makes heaven heavenly, who is the center of its company and the heart of its joy. For me, the issue is not whether I choose to be a part of the church. The church is part of me. Therefore I cannot and will not sever those ties.
|
