This sermon continues our series on Living into Community. Last week we discussed the practice of gratitude, this week we discussed promise-keeping, and this Sunday we will talk about truth-telling. Here is my draft of the sermon that I delivered on Sunday on promise-keeping. I emphasize that it is a DRAFT, and I have no idea what I actually said on Sunday morning because I simply spoke what I remembered from my notes!
I have an
obsession with Les Miserables. And with
good reason: My Grandpa (who we all called Pop-pop) was also obsessed, so this
obsession runs in the family – it’s in my genes. Pop-pop loved the story so
much, that the man actually learned French just so that he could read Hugo’s
writing in its original form… after, of course, he had already read every
English translation besides.
And when I was about 7 years old, Pop-pop found this abandoned
puppy in the woods whom he adopted. So
guess what he named her? For those of
you who know the story: can anyone name an orphan found wandering in the woods
who is adopted? That’s right,
Cossette. He loved that smelly little
mutt Cossette; she was the joy of his old age and he spoiled her like a
princess.
Yes, Pop-pop was a devout man, but at the end of his life, I
bet you he had spent more time reading Les Miserables than the Bible.
I too have
always loved Les Miserables, but for me it’s been the musical setting of it
that echoed in my heart the most. I
don’t know if you’ve gotten the chance to read this fantastic book or see the
musical, but when I saw the musical in the theatres a few weeks ago, it struck
me that Les Miserables is a collection of stories about promises, and that Jean
Valjean is at his core, the promise-keeper.
And it all begins with a covenant of Christian love that completely
turns Jean Valjean’s life around.
If you don’t
know the story, I’ll give you a little background; the ex-convict Jean Valjean
is released from a 19th century French prison after serving 19 years
of hard labor for stealing a single loaf of bread, and for his subsequent
attempts to escape. Upon being released,
no one is willing to give Valjean shelter or employment because his papers
identify him as an ex-convict.
Desperate, Valjean knocks on the door of the village bishop. The bishop is the first person in years to
treat Valjean with kindness, giving him food and shelter, but hardened by years
of injustice and fear, Valjean flees in the night stealing the bishop’s
silverware.
When the police arrest Valjean, they drag him back to the
bishop, but in a surprising twist, the bishop covers for Valjean, telling the police that the silverware was a
gift. Then, he turns to Valjean, and
handing him his most precious treasure of all, the silver candlesticks, he asks
why Valjean forgot to take them also. Valjean
doesn’t know what to say, and after the police have left, the bishop forges a
life-changing covenant between Valjean and God, singing in the musical:
See in this a higher plan
You must use this precious silver
To become an honest man
By the witness of the martyrs
By the Passion and the Blood
God has raised you out of darkness
I have bought your soul for God!
I have bought your soul for God.
This is the covenant, this is bargain, where the bishop
changes the course of Valjean’s sad life.
And for the rest of his days, Valjean becomes an honest man; a man of
his word. God’s promises give Valjean
hope and strength, and in turn, Valjean makes good his promises: promises to
live an honorable life, to take care of his factory workers and townspeople, to
raise Fantine’s child in love, to protect Cossette’s love Marius, and even to
turn himself in to Javert. Valjean is the
promise-keeper.
Promises, and keeping one’s word, are marks of integrity that
often seem to me to have lost some weight in our modern culture – this culture
of choice and independence -- but I tell you these virtues are alive and well
in this Church.
Everyone here today has made many promises in our lives, and
broken some too. Some of these promises
are small, like, I’ll be there at 9:30 to rehearse with the choir, or I’ll
return your book when I’m done. Some of
these promises are bigger and more life-changing, like this one that many of us
have made: I promise to love, honor, and
cherish you, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and
in health, forsaking all others, as long as we both shall live.
Promises, whether big or small, are the very fibers that hold
communities and relationships together.
Central Congregational Church could not survive without your
promise-making and your promise-keeping.
We’re all here today, in this very sanctuary, because of promises we’ve
made. Perhaps you promised your friends
or family you’d be here, perhaps you promised yourself or God to tend to your
spiritual life, or perhaps you promised to contribute your help in some way this
morning. Whatever promise brought you
here this morning, no matter how big or small, you are sitting here because you
are fulfilling a promise.
And when people formally become members of this church, they
stand up and make a covenant with God and with this church family. When you became a member or were confirmed,
you might remember the minister asking you this:
Do you promise to
participate in the life and mission of this family of God’s people,
Sharing regularly in
the worship of God
And helping with the
work of
Central Congregational
Church
As it serves this
community
And the world?
And if you’re a member here, you said, “I do.”
This community runs on promises – your promises. A couple of months ago, our stewardship
committee promised to lead us in the best stewardship campaign yet, and they
delivered. In turn, you promised your
financial support, reaching our goal of $200,000 so that this church might
increase our ministries and plan an even brighter year than before. And soon we be conducting a time and talent
campaign, and again we will ask again for your promises as coworkers in this
community. In a smaller church like
ours, we need everyone to make
promises.
An uncommon number of you already make and keep significant
promises to this community. Last year
Rev. Ng made a spreadsheet of member involvement, listing each church member’s
names and ways in which you gave you time and talent. When the spreadsheet was done, we realized
that almost every single one of you are already are making and keeping promises
to volunteer in significant ways to this community – whether it be your
commitment to lay reading, coffee hour, team membership and leadership, teaching
Sunday School, singing or ringing in our choirs, ushering, prayer shawls,
working with sound, Stephen Ministries, Deacons, MAT, helping with property,
managing the finances, or any of the many other jobs that keep this
church running. It is no exaggeration to
say that without you making and then keeping these promises big and small,
this family would collapse.
And there are
other deeper covenental promises that we have made, and that we keep, that
continue to bind us together in love as a covenant community. These promises are just as important as our
promises of time, talent, and treasure for the wellbeing of our community. These promises are to love and support each
other, especially in the darkest of hours of our lives.
Promises to extend grace, even to those whom we
disagree.
Promises to stay at the table and listen in love, even when
the conversations get tough.
Promises to not pack up and leave
or withdraw our financial support
when our displeasure tempts us.
Promises to hold up this family in our words and prayers,
refraining from poisonous gossip and grumbling,
even when we invariably see human imperfections,
And even when things don’t play out just the way we would
have them.
We promise,
we covenant,
we commit,
to live into Christ’s high call to a covenantal community
filled with love and grace.
But it’s
hard. This covenantal way of life isn’t
easy. The easy route would be for you to
join a megachurch, or no church at all.
Large churches and televised services allow people to simply show up or
flip on the TV Sunday mornings,
receive the message,
and anonymously slip out after the postlude.
In many of these churches, programs and ministries are
products which one can choose to consume that their convenience.
Large staff efficiently take care of all the
Kingdom work for you.
You’ll never be asked
to make promises, such as: could you make the member nametags, fold the
bulletins, or change the church sign.
And in these large churches, no one bothers you with a call if you don’t
show up for a few Sundays.
Then again, no one bothers to call you if you don’t show up
for a few Sundays. And at the end of a
horrible week, you show up to a stadium of strangers. Sure, in these churches it can be easy
because no one expects you to make any promises, but it’s also hard because no
one really needs you or your promises of time, talent or treasure.
Still the easiest route is to join the growing number of
Americans who identify as Christian but don’t attend church at all. But I
wonder how these people really understand what it is to be a Christian. Because to me, being a Christian means being someone
who belongs to the community of Christ.
But you haven't chosen that life. No, you chose the path of covenantal community. Because you know that this life we live together is a
more powerful teacher of the gospel than any sermon ever preached. You know that we belong together, that Christ appears in the
space between us when we gather together in his name. You have heard Christ speaking to you through the words of a
Christian brother or sister. You have experienced the truth that God grows us through the Body of Christ.
The scripture reading today underlines a sharp edge of
promising. One son vows to work, and
doesn’t. One son doesn’t vow, but his
conscious drives him out to work. To
maintain relationships, often too might be tempted to say yes when we mean
no. But failure to fulfill a promise –
either big or small -- in a community or relationship tears at the strong
fibers that hold us together. It is
better to not promise at all. The friend
who is repeatedly late to get-togethers sends a message about the importance of
the friendship. The wife who lies about
her feelings creates distrust in a marriage.
Promise-making and promise-keeping are central to relationships and to
community, but whether they are big or small, they should never be made
lightly.
What are the promises and covenantal relationships in your
life? Have you ever promised yes, when
you needed to say no? Or is there
perhaps more room for promises in your life, but you prefer the freedom of choice
and dislike the binds of commitment? Because
it has been said that if you have promises you always keep, a people you will
never forsake, and causes you cannot abandon, then you are like God.