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Scripture:  Fifth Sunday After Pentecost (Kingdomtide), 2009 B

Sermon:

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  AMEN.

We read from the prophet Ezekiel this morning a wonderful drama of fear and of power!

Ezekiel is in the midst of having a vision, and he is so overwhelmed by what he sees—the Throne in Heaven, the legions of angels, the glory of Almighty God—that he grows weak in the knees and collapses.  Then God thunders down to Ezekiel:  “O mortal, stand up on your feet, and I will speak with you!”

But Ezekiel can’t even do that.  It’s too much.  Too overwhelming.  He finds himself so frozen in place by this vision of God that he is unable even to stand up and listen.  He’s like a deer in headlights, dazzled to the point of death.  But as soon as God commands him to stand, a spirit enters into Ezekiel and sets him up on his feet!  And the prophet, astonished, finds himself listening to the Word of God.

Now, many Christians have pointed to this passage of Scripture as a remarkably vivid illustration of the preaching task.  Preachers are called upon to speak the Word of God—which is kind of like being told to hold back the tide with a Dixie cup.  There’s no way we can do it.  There’s no way anyone can do it.  Not on our own.

The only way for the Word of God to be preached and to work within a congregation is for God to send His Spirit into the preacher, into the hearers, into the entire assembly, so that it is, in fact, God doing the preaching, God doing the hearing, God being the Word and the Spirit within and amongst us.  That’s the only way for the Church to truly be the Church—it has to be the work of God.

Now, this can make some preachers quite arrogant indeed.  We start to think that anything we say is God-breathed and Heaven-sanctioned, as if we were the Christ.  In truth, the preachers should be terrified—the way that Ezekiel is terrified.

Here God has given to Ezekiel this mighty task, this impossible mission, the weight of an unimaginable office; and Ezekiel can’t even stand upright unless God does it for him.  Ezekiel knows that it must be God’s Word, not his own, that is brought to the Israelites, and he knows that this must be done by God working through him.  Anything short of that would be a betrayal of his office, and of his God.  That right there is the power and the terror of preaching, my friends.  As soon as we think that the sacraments, or the service, or the sermon is about us, we’ve already failed.

This flipside of this, however, is that when we as Christians put our trust in God—when we pray that He send His Spirit, preach His Word, spread His promises and heal His people—when we say, “Not our word, Lord, but Yours,” and trust that God’s Word never returns empty—then we can rejoice and take heart that even though we fail God, God never fails us.

It’s not about us, and what we do.  It never was.  It’s all about Christ, and what Christ always does.  Thanks be to God.

That said—let us not think that this passage from Ezekiel applies only to preachers.  Oh, no.  It applies to each and every office that God has given to us for the worldly and spiritual benefit of His Creation.  Offices like policeman or fireman.  Offices like teacher, librarian, cook, clerk, doctor, nurse, mother, father, grandparent, child, soldier, judge, citizen and neighbor.

Every good office given to us for justice and good order, for learning, healing, and feeding, is ordained by God—from the lowliest hotdog vendor to the loftiest king—and every one of these offices does God’s work in this world.

Think about that.  When you change your child’s diaper in faith, you are doing God’s work.  When you slave away tediously at your job, in the sure promise that you are doing good work in this world, God is hard at work in and through you.  When a student learns, when a teacher instructs, when a parent parents—when a worker labors, a mason builds, or a butcher slaughters—you are doing God’s work in this world.  You are serving God’s children, God’s will, and God’s Word.

And as soon as you think that it’s all about you, you have already failed.  These offices are too great for us.  They are too big, too terrifying.  Who could be trusted to instruct the next generation of humanity in the classroom?  Who could be assigned the task of raising children of God as babies in the household?  Who is even worthy to change the cloths of the altar guild on the Table where we share in God’s own Body and Blood?  No one.  No one except God working through you.

If we think that our jobs, our duties, even our families, are all about us, we’ve already failed.  But when it is revealed that God loves what we do, and that God works through us in doing it—that healing and mercy and grace abound—then we rejoice that God will never fail us, that all things truly are in God’s own hands, and that in time God will set this world aright.

As a fellow pastor used to encourage me before each service:  “Don’t worry.  Even if your sermon stinks, there’s still Communion.”

*          *          *

Now, brothers and sisters, we have gathered on this weekend when we celebrate Independence Day—the birth of the American nation upon the earth.  And the war to establish said independence from the might of the British Empire is often called a Revolution—as if what was done in 1776 was something radical, new, or innovative.  But if indeed it was a Revolution, it was a very conservative one.

You see, the Founding Fathers did not believe that they were doing something new.  In fact, as far as they were concerned, they were not rebels at all, but patriots.  The arguments for American Independence were couched not in terms of new ideas, but in terms of ancient ones—arguments from the English Constitution.

Though not a single written document, the English Constitution was understood to be a body of natural human rights given by God to all free men.  These rights were laid down in royal treaties, as well as in works of theology and philosophy.  But perhaps most importantly, these rights often had to be guarded by force.

In the Year of Our Lord 1215, King John the Softsword—made famous as whiny Prince John in all those classic Robin Hood tales—pushed his kingly power too far and encroached upon the rights of his citizens.  He may have been sovereign over the state, but no earthly king had the right to overstep the bounds of his office and encroach upon the rights that all free men—even peasants!—enjoyed by the grace of God.  The English people rose up and marched on his castle, forcing him at sword point to sign the Magna Carta—the first written English Bill of Rights.

In the 1640s, both the king and Parliament encroached upon the people’s sacred rights, and so the English Civil War began, culminating in Oliver Cromwell’s famous cry:  “You are no Parliament!”  Cromwell, you see, understood the distinction between an individual man and his God-given office.  Thus, a bad parent is no parent.  A bad cop is no cop.  And a bad parliament is no parliament.

A little over a century later, Parliament again overstepped its bounds.  The legislators claimed that any law passed by Parliament was just and legal simply because it was passed by Parliament!  The legislature had claimed absolute power, God-given rights be damned.  The state dictates your rights, they claimed, not God!

The American Colonies and their allies in Britain would have none of it.  “We hold these truths to be self-evident,” wrote Thomas Jefferson, “that all men are created equal and are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights—that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

Rights codified in English law for centuries.  Rights written in the hearts of every man, woman, and child on this planet.  Rights, they believed, handed down by God Himself even to the lowliest beggar, beyond the power of any king or state.

The King and Parliament had failed in their offices, for they had lost their humility and fear of God.  They did not believe that God worked through them for the benefit of humanity—they believed that they were God.  And so, they had already failed.  For a bad king is no king; a bad parliament, no parliament; and a bad government, no government at all.  In its place, a new government was formed.  When a woman asked Ben Franklin what sort of state we now had, he replied succinctly:  “A republic, madam.  If you can keep it.”

Brothers and sisters, we love our country.  We serve our country—just as we love and serve our families, our jobs, and our communities.  God is pleased indeed when we take our duties as citizens seriously, working in patriotic faith for justice, good order, and the rights of our neighbors—for that is the work of God!

When we treat the state as a servant, and trust that God works through us in its maintenance, we indeed keep our republic and build a godly state.  But as soon as we cease to see government as a servant of God and of His people—when we instead see the state as a god unto itself, or worse yet, as a means to our own selfish godhood—then we have already failed.  And we are no parliament.

Countries rise and countries fall.  All nations are temporary, even the USA.  As servants of God, we work in the state for the justice and liberty promised to all mankind.  But our true patriotism, our true citizenship, is in Christ, Who endures forever, Who never fails, and Who takes us at last to live in His good and perfect country.

For now we have a republic, if we can keep it.  But let us never forget that Christ is King.

God bless America!  Long live the King!  AMEN.

Prayers of the Church:

Gathered into one by the Holy Spirit, let us pray for the Church, for the world, and for all people in need…

We pray for those who spread Your Word

            In voice, in deed, in life

That where the Gospel’s yet unheard

            You bring out peace from strife

Ezekiel was terrified

            When You did bid him speak

But Your Spirit deep inside

            Did lift him to his feet

Preach Your Word and not our own

            Our wills to Yours equate

 Jesus Christ, for us atone

            O Lord—Your mercy’s great

Bless’d is he who knows no lord

            Or law save God above

And bless’d the state that draws the sword

            Reluctantly, for love

Lord, do guide our government

            To guard the just and weak

While we await Your heaven-sent

            To bring the peace we seek

Countries rise and countries fall

            Have mercy on our state

Until that day when You are all

            O Lord—Your mercy’s great

Ten score year and thirty-three

            Our forebears wrote abroad:

“Rebellion against tyranny’s

            Obedience to God!”

Christ, Who from the shackle frees

            The Christian out of love

Insure to us our liberties

            Descending as the Dove

Pour these gifts on ev’ry soul

            Regardless of his state

Make us in Your image whole

            O Lord—Your mercy’s great

Lord, we pray especially for those we now name before You: for the wondrous healings of Doug, Justin, Bernice, and Bill; for the charity of this community, that it may continue by Your grace; for 125 years of prosperous civil government; for Clarence, Leo, and Jacob; for all doctors, nurses, and caregivers; for those who pray; for those who give of their time and ability; and for all children undergoing medical care.

Into Your hands, O Lord, we commend all for whom we pray

Trusting in Your mercy to light and guard their way.  AMEN.