The Rev’d John McCard, Rector

Proper 19C, September 12, 2004

 

“Jesus loved people who had had a hard wallop. He loved people who were bruised and battered. He loved people who still longed to be closer to God.”

 

O God be in my mouth as I speak for you and fill this place with your great grace, that we may leave this place less of what we use to be and more of what we ought to be, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen

 

I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has strengthened me, because he judged me faithful and appointed me to his service, even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy because I acted ignorantly in unbelief and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.

 

Practical theology does not usually come from the pens of academic theologians. In most cases, they only succeed in writing stuff that no one really understands.

 

Practical theology that speaks to our hearts as well as our minds often comes from unexpected places.

 

Garrison Keillor of Prairie Home Companion knows about this type of theology. 

 

In his book, Lake Wobegon Days, Keillor writes about Hans, a Minnesota farm boy of twelve, who was left alone one Saturday night while the rest of the family went into town.

 

In order to finish his chores on time, he stayed in the barn until late in the evening.

 

As he worked to complete his chores he did not realize that a terrible blizzard had roared in, engulfing the barn and the family in a complete, white out.

 

Of course the boy should have had enough sense to stay put in the barn until the storm passed. But as he looked out of the barn door, Hans, thought he could just make out a ghostly mass of house and black roof in front of him, so he decided to take a chance.

 

Without thinking, he foolishly plunged ahead into the blizzard and was soon blinded by the white light of the storm.  Suddenly the outline of the house disappeared from his vision and he lost his way.

 

He began to panic and take steps in every direction but all he could see was the swirling snow. Lost and without a clear sense of direction, Hans had a sudden realization that he was going to die out in the blizzard.

 

But just as all seemed lost, he thought he saw a fire orange glow that beckoned to him.

 

He regained his bearings and ran headlong into the blizzard—smack into the side of the barn, where he spent the night, lying next to the cow, Tina, and holding his broken nose.

 

Living into a ripe old age, Hans never forgot this near brush with death.

 

Like a Christian undergoing baptism, Keillor writes that he responded to life gratefully. “How kind is God the Father, we were all lost in sin, but now we are changed and free forever after.”

 

Keillor closes out the chapter by saying, “Having once lost his life, Hans entered the new one with a sweet disposition. He planted trees, raised cattle, married, had seven children, seldom spoke a harsh word, and his nose was never set.

 

He pitched ten tons of hay the day he was married; in their wedding picture he sits smiling, his eyes bright besides his ruined beak, a man who took a hard wallop and now everything was easy for him.”

 

How many of you sitting here this morning have ever had that kind of hard wallop? How many of you now know the joy that comes when we are changed and free from a life of sin?

 

St. Paul certainly would have related to my story. Before he met Jesus, he was caught up in a life that he thought was so righteous.

 

He scrupulously observed all the Jewish Law. He dotted his “I’s” and crossed his “T’s”. No one would ever have said St. Paul did not devote himself to doing what he thought God wanted.

 

 

Yet he found that this kind of devotion did not bring him a sense of peace.

 

In the book of Acts, we see a young Paul known as Saul consenting to the stoning death of St. Stephen and entering house after house in Jerusalem, dragging off to prison men and women that believed in Jesus as the Messiah.

 

Yet on the Road to Damascus, St. Paul received a hard wallop from Jesus and said good-bye to a righteous life that had no room for broken noses.

 

As an old man St. Paul writes to Timothy, “I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy because I acted ignorantly in unbelief and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.”

 

Like Hans in our story, Paul got his life back from God and he realized that it was too good of a gift not to share with other people.

 

Before he met Jesus, Paul was probably like the Pharisees and scribes we hear about in St. Luke’s gospel, who grumbled about the company that Jesus kept. “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them”.

 

They did not understand how a person who claimed to be righteous, could permit themselves to be in contact with people that were contaminated by sin.

 

They missed the point of what Jesus’ ministry was all about. Jesus loved people who had had a hard wallop. He loved people who were bruised and battered. He loved people who still longed to be closer to God.

 

He tells his listeners, “There will be more joy in heaven, over one sinner who repents than over ninety nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”

 

Jesus realizes like most of us, that a life lived as his follower is not all about being perfect. Instead it comes from that moment in life, when we realize that we are not perfect. None of us are ever going to measure up to the kind of legalism that some people in churches want to demand.

 

However, the acknowledgment of our failings or the fact that we all have some kind of broken nose is not an occasion for despair.

 

As long as we are willing to repent, God is ready to welcome us back into fellowship.

 

As Jesus points out, this is always a joyous occasion in heaven. “There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.

 

And if we want our churches to be vital places, alive with God’s spirit, we should be all celebrating this redemption as well. 

 

Most of us have probably had the misfortune of worshipping in a church that didn’t seem to know that Jesus had risen or for matter was even born.

 

An Easter-less church fails to appreciate the power of Jesus’ message of forgiveness.

 

It fails to understand the sense of awe that comes from knowing that unlike Scribes or Pharisees, we don’t have to earn God’s love or Jesus’ respect.

 

It is that broken nose of Christ on the cross that is always ready to welcome us back home again.

 

As we continue to get to know each other in the coming months, it is my prayer that our life as a church will continue to be about celebrating this gift of salvation.

 

That we will see our lives together as a joyful expression of God’s great redemptive power and love.

 

In the seventeenth century, the poet George Herbert wrote about what this kind of life should be: Seven whole days not on in seven, I will praise thee, in my heart though not in heaven, I can raise thee, Small it is in this poor sort to enroll thee, Even Eternity’s too short to extol thee.

 

Herbert beautifully captures the way our life should be as a church. It is a rich life that we share with those who have discovered their broken noses and even those hardheaded righteous folk who have not, yet.

 

Let us pray: Almighty and eternal God so draw our hearts to you, so guide our minds, so fill our imaginations, so control our wills, that we may be wholly yours, utterly dedicated to you, and then use us, we pray as you will, and always to your glory, and the welfare of your people; through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.