Transcript
CRAWFORD: Let us look toward God. Let us pray. O God, our Father, we lean our arm awhile on the windowsill of heaven and gaze in upon the splendor and then find by Jesus Christ how close that splendor is to earth. In these days, permit us to see together what we cannot see
alone, to hear what we have never heard, and to think upon those things which only the heart can understand. Gratefully, we remember the paths which have led us to decisions that are important and the people who have been agents of blessing, and forgiveness,
and encouragement. Very gratefully do we remember those from whom we are now parted and yet linked by Spirit, closer than miles, built into our lives forever. These new friendships -- that each of these Thy servants may be
agents of encouragement to each other. The Body of Christ may be built up on earth and that on earth as in heaven Thy will may be done through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen. Our hymn is number two -- hymn number two.
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CRAWFORD: Before we listen to the Word of God, may I share with you a few words from man, reminding you this morning of the workshops? The opportunity to sense the resources of Reigner Reading Room, which if it is discovered belatedly causes one to say, "Oh, I wish I had known."
Amazing in terms of audio-visual, in terms of suggestions for involvement in field education, just in terms of priming the pump or quickening the imagination or just to know it's there and there's a good time. Then, the 11 o'clock hour in the lounge of Tennent Hall with Professor Kerr on how to prepare to read,
write, and produce. Apart from that, not very much will be covered. This will be in the lounge. Now, the reading room and -- is on the left as you go down the pathway there at the Tennent Campus and Tennent Hall is the large building facing Stockton Street and the lounge is straight up the stairs and in. Don't be deceived by the tombstone outside announcing that this is the Tennent
Campus. It is a lively place and you'll want to be there. Forgive me for the Scripture lesson. I don't like it either, but listen to the 23rd chapter of the Gospel of St. Matthew. "Then said Jesus to the crowds and to His disciples, 'The scribes and the Pharisees sit on
Moses's seat. So, practice and observe whatever they tell you but not what they do for they preach but do not practice. They bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men's shoulders but they themselves will not move them with their finger. They do all their deeds to be seen by men for they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long and they love the
place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogue and salutations in the marketplaces and being called rabbi by men. You are not to be called rabbi for you have one teacher and you are all brothers and sisters. Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites because you shut the Kingdom of Heaven against men for you
neither enter yourselves nor allow those who would enter to go in. Woe to you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites for you traverse sea and land to make a single proselyte, and when he becomes a proselyte, you make him twice as much a child of hell as yourself. Woe to you, blind guides. Woe
to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites for you cleanse the outside of the cup and of the plate but inside they are full of extortion and rapacity. You, blind Pharisee, first cleanse the inside of the cup and of the plate but the outside also may be clean. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent
to you. How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings and you would not?'" Passages from the Gospel of St. Matthew that may not be our favorites. There is an ingredient
in faith that I commend to you and that I urge you if you currently possess it never to lose and if you don't think you're working towards it, set yourself in that direction. The ingredient is humor.
I had not planned to share these reflections with you until yesterday when I saw so many of you looking somber and I remembered when a colleague of mine in greeting a group in radiant smile said, "Just to see you here is a Christian experience of anticipation fulfilled," and I said, "That's it," and I remembered the words of
C.S. Lewis. "The serious business of the Kingdom of Heaven is joy." Now, you wonder why in the world would that scripture lesson be read to launch that particular observation. Precisely because the words of Jesus have become smoothed over by familiarity
and we do not hear the discerning chuckle in our heart. Imagine that strange description of blind guides or of those you remember in another passage who strain out a gnat and swallow a camel;
one hump, two humps, hair legs, or those that spend all their time scouring the outside of the cup while the inside is dirty and it's from the inside that you drink. Time after time, these delightful deft teachings of our Lord come to us, sponsored by deep humor,
and I'm not talking about slapstick or cleverness or the assault on someone by a type of humor that is not real humor. I'm talking about that capacity to discern proportion which is part of humor. Some years ago, that best drama critic in New York, Walter Kerr, set out to write a book on humor and found that he could only
write it if he also studied tragedy, and so the book deals both with tragedy and humor and the reason being was that the capacity to understand both are the same capacity, or putting it perhaps in our terms, the capacity to laugh shows that we have the capacity to cry. It is a measure of lively sensitivity. It is a measure of discernment.
It is a perception of proportion and let's never miss this in Jesus if we be tempted to believe that every battle is Armageddon and every theological position is as worthy as the other. I have a secret for you. Prayers of confession include our theology as well as other commissions and omissions. No, I think a sense of humor
restores in us a vitality regarding ourselves as well as others. We are not on the throne. We decide that God will be God and can take over for a while. You do not know, most of you, a professor who used to teach history here and is now emeritus, one Norman Victor Hope. He is a neighbor
of Dr. Feldmeth and is often on the campus, and if you see a man seeming to walk across the campus, a short man trying to make a world's record speed and talking like this so that in the days I took classes with him, if you broke a pencil, you missed a century, Dr. Hope is a Scot and will never let you forget it if you ever be tempted. One time, my wife and I
took Dr. Hope and his wife to the -- what was then called "Idlewild Airport." It's now called "J.F. Kennedy," and they were building, as all airports are always being built. This was being built and we were in a shed-like structure with sort of like an igloo formation with a non-acoustical ceiling and planes were leaving from the strangest gates that seemed to have been carved open by a can opener. There
was this large delegation of people from New York, recently settled in New York. They were part of a group of many thousand Puerto Rican men and women that had come to New York and many of them were wise enough to go back home later. But, there was a serene figure of the Church who was being bade farewell. These folk were manifestly not very possessed of the world's
goods but they were bestowing on his regal eminence all sorts of gifts to take back to Puerto Rico and he in his purple gown was receiving them as one sort of above the battle, almost condescending to be present, and yet they were expressing their love and their affection by what they were bringing and there did not seem to be very much 'simpatico' in his spirit. Dr. Hope does not
normally whisper anyway but because of all the jibbering and the jabbering, he found it necessary to talk very loudly, and we were carrying on that type of a conversation and did not observe that this serene figure of ecclesiastical importance had raised his hand to give the benediction. So, everyone over there at the next gate quieted but Dr. Hope's words kept going
loud and he said, "Dave, have you heard of God? That's his brother." It is healthy to maintain a sense of proportion and our Lord helps us even in
those passages of Scripture that sound austerely challenging, and would bring at times an appropriate furrow to our brow. But, underneath, there has to be also the chuckle of recognition. Reinhold Niebuhr, the greatest theologian, I believe, ever spawned in America -- you know, the statement is that theology is created in Germany,
corrected in Scotland, and corrupted in the United States. Well, he did his best to change that and I hope you will, too. Reinhold Niebuhr has an essay on humor and faith -- I commend it to you -- in which he points out that in humor, we assign the minor incongruities of life to laughter and the major incongruities
to God by faith which is part of a way of saying we have always to remember that we are not God, which means we need Him and we probably, not being God, have the great privilege of being forgiven and forgiving each other.
This matter of discernment, perhaps, can be illustrated in one way. Some of you have never seen snowy evenings. You will probably in New Jersey. Some of you may never have skidded on the ice. I promise that that is a treat upcoming. Visualize, if you will, a snowy evening with icy sidewalks
that have been shoveled and so there are snowbanks along the edge of the sidewalks. This particular evening, a man strides out. He is going to a party. He stops on the front steps to take a satisfying inventory of himself; derby hat, boutonniere, scarf, cane. He is ready and he walks down the stairs and he strides out into the evening
but he misses the sight of a patch of ice that has not been removed from the sidewalk and he skids on that ice and goes plumb into the snowbank; hat in one direction, cane in another, and words in another. The fellows standing on the street corner have observed this entire affair and the minute this happens,
they break out in laughter. It's funny. It's terrific; who he thought he was and where he ended up. There's something eternally right about it. A few minutes later, a lady coming back from the supermarket, bent over with bundles but also with age fails to see the same patch of ice
and she falls. The bags burst and she goes into the snowbank. The fellows don't laugh. That's not funny. They run over and they help her up and make sure that her purchases arrive home safely with her; same ice, same snowbank,
same gravity but something different in perception. The response both times is launched by a similar capacity. Well, there's something wonderful about the proportions of the Christian faith, and height, and depth. They undeceive us magnificently
and they expose us into our salvation and they help us to reach each other. The poet Swinburne was way off the mark when he said of our Lord, "Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean. The world has grown grey with Thy breath." Not on
your life. The Lord of joy, the Lord of all seriousness and happiness combined for you and for me. Let us pray.
To Thee, O God, our Father, we turn over this day and by Thy grace we find that it is ours through Jesus Christ. Amen. Our concluding hymn is number 294, "We thank Thee, Lord, Thy Paths of Service Lead."
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CRAWFORD: See you tomorrow at the retreat. The power of the most high God, our Father, the lowliness of Jesus Christ, our Savior, the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit, our Comforter, and our embraver be with you this day, and then tomorrow, and then forever. Amen.