"When the World Says'No'"
Jesus Christ is better than any security blanket
Sermon Preached by
The Rev. J. Peter Holmes
Sunday, January 20, 2002
Texts: 2 Corinthians 1:1-18, Mark 2:1-12
"When the world says "No" … How would you finish that sentence? "When the world says "No" … Or do we need to be convinced that the world does say "No?"
I was looking at a Peanuts comic strip in which Charlie Brown and Linus were having an argument. They were arguing about whether the world was getting better, or whether it was getting worse. Charlie Brown, of course, was arguing that it was getting worse. Linus was arguing that it was getting better.
Charlie Brown had an excellent line. He said to Linus: "Okay, Linus, if you are so convinced that the world is getting better, how come you keep holding that security blanket?"
When the world says "No," do we cling to that blanket of security? Linus let go of the blanket, held it out, looked down at it, looked up at Charlie Brown, looked down at it, looked up and pulled it back even tighter to himself and said: "Touché."
When the world says "No," grab your security blanket. Is that our answer? Perhaps we need some convincing that the world does say "No." I don't want to believe that it does. I want to believe that it says "Yes."
Not too long ago, my girls came to the dinner table. They had been watching TV and so this became a bit of a confession because they had been watching one of those tabloid journalism shows on TV and I wasn't too keen on that. They couldn't help but talk about it, however, because of something they had seen on the show. It was something of an exposé of a beauty pageant for young girls.
In this exposé, they went behind the scenes. They went backstage and they showed what happened before and they showed what happened after the beauty pageant - all in the name of beauty. Here it is, a beauty pageant; the world trying to say "Yes" to these girls; trying to say "Yes" and affirm beauty. But here it was: There was one set of parents who were concerned that their girl's tummy was a little too big and so they took a roll of duct tape and they wrapped it around and around her tummy to hold it in.
They showed afterwards, too. They showed when they took the duct tape off - and some of the skin with it. My girls were troubled, very troubled by this.
Then they showed some parents of girls who had lost. The parents were hurling abuse at their girls for not having done well enough.
All in the name of beauty! All in the name of trying to say "Yes," there was a loud and resounding "No." Oh, there are some who win at these things; but even when the world says "Yes," watch out, because it may not last.
I was reading something recently of a statistic about news anchors, male versus female: The men last longer in the job, not because they're better, but because beauty wears thin and they replace the women with younger ones. Oh, when the world says "Yes," watch out, because it may not be long, it may be just around the corner and there'll be a "No" when the world says "Yes." And the world does say "No."
I like to read the writings of the late Archbishop of Brazil, Dom Hélder Câmara. He would get up early in the morning and look over his city. He would see the things and the people and he would reflect. He would open himself to God.
One day, early in the morning, he saw the street sweeper coming along, sweeping up the street. Every once in a while, he noticed, the street sweeper would stop because it was garbage day. He would go through some things and find some old junk that he felt might be a treasure and he'd redeem it. He would take it to make something of it. But all the while as he passed, and stopped, and looked at the garbage, what he didn't stop and look at were the homeless people lying in the street.
Dom Hélder Câmara wrote these words: "Road sweeper, show some respect if any old bits of dreams, life, love, turn up." But we are not open to that because of the "No" in this world.
Then, on another occasion, he stood in line waiting for a bus and one bus after another went speeding by, not stopping for the people who were waiting. Some of them had a sign on the front that said FULL and some of them had a sign that said OUT OF SERVICE. Reflecting on that he wrote: "Speeding by go the buses, signalling what I must never signal - FULL; OUT OF SERVICE."
Ask the homeless. Ask those who have been told that they missed the bus, even though they have been waiting for the bus and the bus went zooming by, full. Ask them what the world says and they will tell you the world says "No."
I don't want to believe it. I wish it were different, but the world says "No." The question is: When the world says "No," what? Do we just have our security blanket to hold on to? Is that all? Is there not a more hopeful word?
Paul, in his second letter to the church at Corinth, which was read for us this morning, offered a more hopeful word. Paul was writing this section partly because he had hoped to get to the church with Timothy to visit the people in Corinth, but he was prevented from doing so.
Someone in the church just couldn't take another "No." He said: "Paul, you said you were coming. You didn't come." Is it "Yes" or is it "No?"
Paul turned the focus from his own humanity, and his own failure, to God. He said: "Even when I can't help but say 'No,' God says 'Yes.' God has said 'Yes,' loud and clear, to every promise he ever made and he has said 'Yes' in Jesus."
"But as surely as God is faithful," he wrote, "our message to you is not 'Yes' and 'No.' For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who has preached among you, it was not 'Yes' and 'No,' but in him it has always been 'Yes.' For, no matter how many promises God has made, they are all 'Yes' in Christ Jesus."
I wonder, when Paul was writing that, if he hadn't been perhaps reflecting on the story that we read from the Gospel, or a story just like it, for that's a story, the story of the healing of the paralytic, all about the "No" of the world and the "Yes" of God. It's right there.
Now, we don't know where this man came from and so we can only imagine, but for years he had been paralyzed, he'd been on a mat and he'd heard "No," "No," "No." "No, there's nothing more we can do for you." "No, there's no room for you here." "No, we're sorry. It must be your fault." "No." "No." "No," louder and louder as the years went on.
But it's a story too about "Yes;" about those who were carrying him, sensing that there was something greater than the "No" of the world. They were bringing him to the "Yes" of Jesus, and nothing could stop them. Nothing could stop them. They came near the house where Jesus was and the crowds outside said: "No, there's no room. Go your way. Maybe Jesus can see you later if he has time."
But they could sense in Jesus the "Yes" of God, and so they persisted and they took him up on the roof and they opened the tiles of the roof in faith and lowered the man down, because they believed in the "Yes" of God in Jesus. When the world says "No," God says "Yes."
Back when we were younger, my wife and I used to enjoy going to the symphony in the city we grew up in, on the west coast. We still do enjoy it, but there was something quite unique there.
As was the custom with many symphony orchestras, there was a moment in the program, after the first piece, when latecomers were welcome to come in and find their seats. There was a conductor many years ago, however, who didn't make them very welcome.
Of course, he began with his back to the people, but then, at the point in the symphony when the latecomers would come in through this door and that, through the back and into the gallery, he would turn around and look at the audience. He would shake his head and look at everyone who was coming in late. He would stand, take his baton and start to beat it, shaking his head: No, No, No. You think you can say "No" and be late. I can say "No" even louder, he was saying. It was the highlight of the night, sometimes.
God could be like that, couldn't He? God is the Creator, the Conductor of Creation's Symphony. God has the baton. God could shake His head at us for all of our "No's" and say a louder "No." But God doesn't. God doesn't. "In Jesus," Paul says, "all of God's promises are kept and He says "Yes.""
And so the man is lowered down through that ceiling; lowered down, down, and someone points up and says: "Oh, it's not him again. Out! Stop right there! We don't have time or space."
But Jesus says: "No, let him come. Yes." He comes and he rests at the feet of Jesus and Jesus looks at him and he says: "Your sins are forgiven."
Now, get ready for this, because there's a "No" coming. They say: "No, you can't forgive sins, Jesus."
And we don't want to. This hits home. There are people whom we don't want to forgive. We, too, want to lend our voices to the chorus of "No." We want to say "No" even when God is saying "Yes." But there's the man and the world is saying "No" and Jesus says: "But I say yes.
"And God says: 'Yes, your sins are forgiven.'
"And so that you'll know that God is forgiving your sins, I say to you: 'Rise. Take up your mat and walk away. Go home.'"
And the man does because the "Yes" of God is more powerful than the "No" of the world.
This is the beginning of Mark's Gospel and the battle-lines are being drawn: the battle-lines between the "Yes" of God and the "No" of the world; between law and grace; between crucifixion and resurrection; between Good Friday and Easter; between "No" and "Yes." And God has the last word, and in Jesus Christ it is always "Yes."
One day I was in the mall. I saw a little boy coming out of a store with his father. They had been in line and I could tell - it was just a young, young, boy. It was in the evening, he had asked for some candy at the check-out. I could tell. I've been there; I've heard this. The boy asked and the father had said: "No."
The boy wasn't satisfied with that "No, he couldn't have candy." I could tell the boy had probably missed his nap that afternoon. He had probably already had too many sweets that evening and it was getting late for a boy so young.
Out into the mall they came and the father sat down to collect himself. The boy was starting his tantrum and he was flailing his arms and he was saying to his father: "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."
The father let him flail on for a little bit, and people were watching. The boy came closer and started to beat his father, and the arms of the father went out around the boy, just quietly and gently. The boy fell into the father's arms.
The last word was the father's, and the father said: "I love you."
I love you. God's word is the last word and when all the world says "No," God says "Yes" in Jesus. Yes, your sins are forgiven. Yes, get up and walk. Be whole, be well. Yes.
So when the world says "No" and God says "Yes," what do we say? Now that's the question: What do we say when they world says "No" and God says "Yes?" Do we still cling to that security blanket?
We want to retreat when the world says "No," because it can be very loud and very painful and we need something to cling to, but the "Yes" of God is always with us - "Lo, I am with you always," says Jesus - always there for us to hold, to cling to the promises of God. We need not cling to the security blanket.
What do we say when the world says "No" and God says "Yes?" Paul says that when God says "Yes," our word is Amen to the Glory of God. We add our voice as an echo to the "Yes" of God by sounding in word and deed our own Amen to sing "Yes" to God. To His movement of love and grace and mercy, we say "Yes," too.
A story is told of a man who was walking on the beach. It was early in the morning because he could see a boy walking far ahead of him. The boy seemed to be dancing. The man came closer still and he could see that the boy wasn't dancing. What the boy was doing was reaching down and picking something up and throwing it.
The man came closer and he could see that what the boy was picking up were starfish. The tide had been coming in and going out and depositing the starfish on its way out and leaving them on the sand to die; but the boy was picking them up, rescuing them, if you will, and throwing them out into the sea.
The man finally caught up to the boy - they were the only ones on the beach - and the man said: "What are you doing?"
The boy said: "I'm throwing starfish back into the sea."
The man said: "Look behind you. Look where you've come from, son. It's littered with them. And look ahead of you, look how many there are. It's littered with them. There's nothing you can do to make a difference here."
The boy bent down and picked up another starfish, hurled it to the sea and he said: "Ah, but it makes a difference to that one," and he threw another, "and to that one," and another, "and to that one."
We can be discouraged trying to say "Yes" in this world. We can feel like a drop in the bucket. We can feel that no matter what we do or say, it's not going to make a difference … except to this one … and to that one …. And soon, it's part of the chorus of God, and the tide turns and the "No" of the world is drowned out by the "Yes" of God, of His Love, and His Mercy, and His Grace. When the world says "No" and God says "Yes," what do we say?
We do not know where that man, that paralytic, came from, but we know that he only came to Jesus because four people were carrying his mat, one on each corner, bringing him to Jesus. I think to myself: "That's part of it, that's what it looks like, this "Yes," our "Yes," our Amen."
It's working together to make a difference. On this Sunday, the first Sunday of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, it is imperative for us to hear that call, to work together to make a difference; each to take his corner, each to take his place.
Now, can you imagine if those four carrying that man had suddenly broken into some kind of a dispute or argument about theology and one of them had let go and said: "I'm going my way." The man would never have reached Jesus. The "Yes" of God would never have been heard that day so loudly. That's what it looks like.
It looks like working together; but if we drop our corner, the "No" of the world turns to laughter and the "Yes" of Heaven to tears.
But when the world says "No" it can be so hard. We just want to take that security blanket and hold it tighter than ever. We just want to have Jesus to ourselves and cling to him.
But I just want to say this: Thinking back to that cartoon strip of Linus and Charlie Brown, you know, I think Linus could have won that argument. He could have. When Charlie Brown said: "If you think the world's getting better, then why are you holding that blanket so tightly?" I think Linus, instead of holding it even tighter, could have taken it to Charlie Brown and said: "Here, Charlie Brown, you take a corner."
He could then have gone and found Lucy and Schroeder and had them take a corner each, and then gone out into the world to carry some person to wholeness, to salvation, to grace, to love, to hope. That's what the "Yes" of God looks like when we say Amen. It makes a difference in this world.
When the world says "No" and God says "Yes," what do we say? What do we say? You know what to say. Now go and finish that sentence to the Glory of God.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
This is a verbatim transcription of the original sermon.