Keeping the Windows Open
June 28, 2009

A sermon by

The Rev. Dr. Alan Kelchner

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            My grandmother was a big fan of Oral Roberts.  Now, some of you may not remember Oral Roberts, but he was one of the first big-time television evangelists - and Grandma loved to watch his show.  Now, my grandmother was a farmer’s wife and a hard worker all her life, good German stock, and she generally did not show a lot of emotion.  But when she watched Oral Roberts, it was a different story!  I remembering seeing her sit in front of the TV with a box of tissues on her lap, crying.  Sometimes she would laugh out loud, or she would cheer people on, as they came forward for healing, and then threw their crutches away. 

            I also remember a little Oral Roberts plaque from that she kept on top of her Philco TV set.  It said, “Expect a miracle!”  That was his tag line: “Expect a miracle!”   Oral Roberts, you see, didn’t preach the typical evangelist’s message about hell and damnation.  Apparently that approach doesn’t resonate well with a television audience.  So, from Oral Roberts, on through to Joel Osteen today, TV evangelists tend to focus on the positive, assuring their listeners that “God wants good things to happen to you!”  We are encouraged to believe in God and expect miracles to happen.   

            Now, I loved my Grandma.  But I also understood that at the Congregational Church where I grew up - and where Grandma was a faithful member for 40 years - “Oral Roberts” was not a topic to be discussed in polite company.  

            My parents were clearly skeptical, as well, as they fretted about the money that Grandma was sending to the Oral Roberts organization, in exchange for trinkets and prayer cards.

            Now, my guess is that most of us in this room have a faith that is quite different from that proclaimed by Oral Roberts.  Certainly, we believe that God loves us and wants good things for us; however, we do not expect to be singled out for special favors.  Most of us have learned that it is better not to expect miracles.  After all, we don’t want to be disappointed. 

            In fact, I would guess that most of us tend toward the philosophy that setting your expectations too high is a good way to ruin your life!  “Expectation” is sometimes described as “premeditated resentment.”  Premeditated resentment.  In other words, the greater your expectations are, the greater your disappointment will be when they are not fully met, and the more likely you are to feel resentful because you have been short-changed. 

            Far better to rachet down your expectations, and not expect for miracles to happen.  Keep your feet on the ground, be realistic. That way, you won’t be disappointed. 

            And that’s fine.  I guess....

            I just can’t help noticing that this way of thinking is in sharp contrast to the two people we meet in the scripture passage that Dave read for us today from the Gospel of Mark.  These people have sky-high expectations.

            First, there is Jairus.  Jairus is a man of prominence, a synagogue leader and an influential community figure.  And yet, he falls down at the feet of Jesus, and begs.  Jairus begs this itinerant preacher and rabble-rouser, Jesus, to come to his house and heal their precious 12-year-old daughter, who is dying.  No doubt, Jairus expects that Jesus can work a miracle; otherwise he would not have made such a spectacle of himself in pleading for help.  And sure enough, Jesus revives his daughter, who had been given up for dead. 

            And then, there is a woman whose name is not given; but I think of her as Sarah.  Let’s call her Sarah.  She has suffered for 12 years, apparently with some sort of female problems that have caused a constant flow of blood.  Sarah is exhausted and depleted.  She has been to all kinds of doctors, and tried every treatment in the book - to no avail. 

            But then, Sarah comes to Jesus, expecting a miracle.  She thinks to herself, “If I can only touch him, I will be healed.” 

            So, she did.  And, she was. 

            Now, these are wonderful stories about the healing power of God in Jesus Christ; they are inspiring stories about people of great faith, who expected a miracle. 

            Still, you know, they are just so far removed from my life and yours.  We do not expect, nor do we experience, miracles like this.  By and large, our lives are much more reasonable and constrained.  And so is our faith.  After all, life is hard enough, without a religion that constantly raises and then dashes your expectations.  Better that you and I should stick to a religious faith that is more reasonable and predictable.

            Now, to be sure, when we gather here on Sunday mornings, we boldly affirm God’s infinite power and mystery.  But my hunch is that the God we actually believe in, is a more reasonable and predictable God.  We’re not really looking for any surprises; and we certainly don't want anything that's  radical or awkward, or that’s going to complicate our lives.  

            I wonder sometimes what would happen if you or I were confronted by a burning bush and a voice from the heavens, like Moses was?  My guess is we would be tempted to just walk on by, and to pretend that it didn’t happen.  

            My hunch is that my response, and maybe yours as well, would be to say, “Thank you very much, but I just don’t want to get quite that involved with God right now.  You see, I’m really busy; I’ve got a lot of things on my plate right now.  And this would really complicate my life.”

            And so, dear friends, the question I’m inviting you to wrestle with this morning, is just how open we are to the Spirit of God at work in the world.   Would we see a miracle if one happened in front of us?    

            In one of our new member classes, we were talking about our individual spiritual journeys; and someone said how important it is to stay open and expectant, and to listen for God in our lives. 

            We all agreed that while this is important, it is not as easy thing to do.  In a world of distraction and crisis, how can you and I remain spiritually alert, and ready to receive, ready to learn?   How can we retain a sense of wonder and mystery - especially in a culture in which the Sacred is so often discounted and dismissed?  

            One of my favorite authors, John Updike, died recently.  He wrote a novel called The Coup.  The Coup is a funny and unsettling story about a fictional country in Africa.  The story is told in first person, through the eyes of the President of this young nation.  He is a man with plenty of faults and failings; but he is also wise, and he deeply loves his people.

            What I appreciate about this novel is that it provides insight into the cultural upheaval of a "developing country."  Susan and I have been fortunate to visit several so-called “Third World” or “developing countries” on four different continents; and it’s always fascinating, and disheartening, to observe the bizarre interaction between the modern consumer culture of Coca-Cola, digital watches, pop music, and celebrities - set alongside the traditional, native cultures and values, and the basic needs of the people. 

            In Updike’s novel, the President makes the observation that what the white invaders brought with them, worse than their personal cruelty, or their material excess, was the loss of the Sacred - with a capital S.  He observes that the sacredness of life is rapidly disappearing, “leaving us to live and die to no purpose, in a state of nonsense."   He goes on to say that all of the economic activity has "pre-empted the mental spaces formerly devoted to battle and ritual, to death and God.”  And then he says, "The volume of mysteries upon which we float has been displaced." 

        "The volume of mysteries upon which we float has been displaced."

            Well, my fear is that this is true for us as well, in this uprooted and uprooting culture in which we live.  Many of us want to be spiritually alive;  We yearn to float upon a volume of mysteries.  We yearn for meaning and clarity.  We want to be surrounded by the numinous presence of God. 

            Instead of feeling spiritually numb and anesthetized, we’d rather be spiritually attuned to the Sacred and to miracles happening all around us.

            Many of us find that our spirits are troubled and restless within us.  And we aren't quite sure why, or what to do about it.  We are filled with an ancient yearning - one spoken by St. Augustine, who wrote "Our souls are restless till they find their rest in God."  I think that you and I want very much to have our troubled souls be at rest in God; we want to have the Sacred aspect of life break through to us in new ways. 

            But, frankly, this feels like alien territory to many of us.  And I believe that this is largely because “the volume of mysteries” upon which our ancestors floated has been displaced.  We are now left floundering in a sea of nonsense and materialism and consumerism, struggling to grab hold of some raft of meaning that will keep us afloat. 

            Where shall we look?  How do we stay in touch with the Sacred?   How do we stay open to the mystery and the power of God? 

            Well, I would commend to you the traditional practices of prayer and meditation, Bible study and reflection.  Do some journaling or writing.  Make time in your daily schedule.  Practice being in the presence of God.

            But I would suggest to you that there are many pathways, and most of them are not predictable or traditional.

            There was a Woody Allen movie several years ago, called “Hannah and her Sisters.”  Maybe you remember it.  Woody Allen plays a character who is a depressed hypochondriac.  His desperate and hilarious search for the “meaning of life” leads him into all sorts of things, including Hare Krishna, and finally, conversion from being a Jew to becoming a Catholic.

            Alas, nothing works; that is, until one day when he wanders into a movie theater and watches an old Marx brothers movie!  Suddenly his spirit is stirred, his heart is strangely warmed, and he has a life-changing spiritual experience.   It all comes together for him.  Which may seem an odd setting.  But why not?  The Lord works in mysterious ways.

            And even though this movie is poking fun at a character who keeps searching, from one religious experience to another; still, I think there may be a clue here.  Perhaps for us, too, the key is simply to keep on searching - to not become jaded and cynical; but instead to stay open and seeking. 

            After all, if we have stopped listening, how can we know whether God is still speaking?   Perhaps you and I need to be more like Jairus and Sarah, and expect a miracle.  Perhaps we need to be more like my grandmother, and expect to see clear evidence of God at work.  

            You know, one of the great joys of being a pastor is that I get to spend time with people, especially older people.  Over the years, it has been my privilege to get to know many people who have lived for 80 or 90 years and more.  And it’s like a treasure hunt when we sit and talk; I get to hear stories from which I glean a lot of wisdom:  the kind of wisdom that does not come with a PhD, but comes only from life experience.

            Recently, I have been thinking about a woman named Doris, who was a retired school teacher, and a member of a church I once served. 

            Doris was a wise woman, and was an inspiration to me.  I only hope that I can be as intellectually and spiritually alive in my later years.  She’s the kind of person who never stopped searching, never stopped reading, never stopped asking questions.

            And I remember her talking one time about how difficult it is to stay open to the spiritual, and especially how hard it is for us to discover anything new in familiar places, or from people who are well-known to us.  The trick, as Doris put it, is to leave the windows open, just in case there is some stirring of the breeze.

            And that's the image I want to leave with this morning: an invitation from my friend Doris to be sure to leave your windows open, in case there is some stirring of the breeze.

            In other words, the key for you and me is to not shut down spiritually, and to not assume that we have seen it all before; but, instead, to stay open to the mystery, open to each other, open to the wild and sacred mysteries upon which we float.

            Much like we open up our houses in the springtime to allow the freshening breezes to blow through, may we also open our hearts and minds.  May we keep open the window to our soul, and allow the life-affirming, ever-changing, Winds of the Spirit to blow through our lives. 

            For Jesus’ sake.  Amen.