“Changeless Realities in a Changing World"
Faith, hope and love remain
Sermon Preached by
The Rev. Dr. Andrew Stirling
Sunday, January 8, 2006
Text: I Corinthians 13:1-13
Many of you will remember that just before Christmas 2004, I told a story about a good friend of mine who had fallen upon such hard times in Halifax, Nova Scotia, that he ended up homeless. He faced a terrible problem his dog, Coyote. If he kept his dog, he wasn't allowed to stay in any of the shelters. He had, then, a dilemma: Does he keep his own dog and live on the streets or does he live in warmth in a shelter and eventually find an apartment, but get rid of his best friend? As things worked out, someone listening to this very church service phoned the SPCA in Nova Scotia and made provisions for the dog, Coyote, to be taken care of. Coyote then moved into a shelter, and my friend was able eventually to find a home. Both the dog and my friend were saved.
Well, just two weeks before this recent Christmas, the same person who had brought my friend's situation to public attention in an article in the Halifax Chronicle-Herald newspaper wrote an update on the condition of the dog Coyote. After 12 months, Coyote's story has a happy ending. Coyote ended up with a lovely home, where she was well fed, given wonderful care, food and medicines, and now her coat is glossy, her nose is wet and shiny, and her disposition is friendly. I am pleased to say that my friend has all of those attributes as well (but we are not sure about the wet nose). Through acts of kindness and generosity, somebody was saved. In this case, it was not only a person, but a person's dog. Because of the compassion that was aroused by that generosity, others came in and provided care where it was most needed.
Now, I want you to tuck that story away for a while; I want to revisit it a little later on.
I am always intrigued by reading newspaper articles at the end of an old year or beginning of a new one, for in them there is much for our instruction and inspiration. This past December 31st, for example, I read the paper very carefully, indeed. I am always fascinated by those who purport to know what the future is going to bring. In fact, all one had to do was look at the headlines, and there was much that was of interest. For instance, an astrologer claimed the new year would be one of turmoil, with our success depending on the timing with which we do things. Well, that's a pretty insightful thought - I think NOT!
And then, I read the business section, where they were saying that 2005 was the triumph of the optimist. Aside from a few problems along the way - a little corruption here and there, a little insider trading here and there - basically, the economy was good. Investments were up 20 per cent, employment in most sectors was up. With the exception of airlines and automobiles, 2005 was a good year, and 2006 would be a good year as well. I read all the predictions. Some said good things were going to happen, some said bad things were going to happen, but most sounded like a weather forecaster saying that in 2006 there will be a little bit of rain, a little bit of sun, and some snow in the north. Those were basically the predictions that were coming forth. You could look at the year that was past and the one that was coming in two or three different ways.
It was then that I decided to make my own prediction, one that will actually help you and guide you. It is this: In 2006 there will be change. Now, before you think that I have completely lost my mind and I have nothing else to say, let me tell you that I think those changes that will take place in the new year will be sometimes positive and sometimes negative. Very often, the way we look at the coming year is determined by the degree of our optimism or our pessimism. Sometimes we are optimistic about the future. Optimists look to the past to see changes that have taken place, and believe that progress will cause positive changes to occur in the year ahead.
One of those people was John Steinbeck. He was always an optimist, and I loved what he wrote about change coming in the New Year in Travels with Charley. I think this is delightful:
Even while I protest the assembly-line production of our food, our songs, our language, and eventually our souls, I know it was a rare home that baked good bread in the old days. Mother's cooking was with rare exceptions poor, that good unpasteurized milk touched only by flies and bits of manure crawled with bacteria, the healthy, old-time life was riddled with aches, sudden death from unknown causes, and the sweet local speech I mourn was the child of illiteracy and ignorance. It is the nature of man as he grows older, a small bridge in time, to protest against change, particularly change for the better.
In other words, when Steinbeck looked at the history of the world, at progress in his own lifetime, even the baking of bread, he said, “You know, maybe the changes that have taken place in life are not that bad after all, and maybe it is only the old crusties that make change a negative thing.”
On the other hand, I was listening to Pat Buchanan being interviewed on CNN this week, and he had most terrible prognostications for 2006, believing that we are heading for wars stemming from the clash of civilizations and ethnic strife, problems with oil prices and increases in inflation, and deterioration in the moral standards of the world. After listening to what he said, I just wanted to sleep in on New Year's Day! It seems to me that the way we look at change is determined by whether we are optimists or pessimists. Optimists look at the past and see the good that can take place; pessimists see all the things that are no longer around and see the future as abysmal and dark and dreadful. However, no matter how you look at the future, whether optimistically or pessimistically, there is that one constant - it will change! I like the words of Percy Shelley:
We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! - yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost forever:
Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
We rest. - A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise. - One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond foe, or cast our cares away:
It is the same! - For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutability.
Nothing endures, except change. If we are right that there will be change in this new year, and if there will be both the highs of optimism and the lows of pessimism, if there will be things to celebrate with joy and new discoveries to be achieved, as well as the manifestation of man's inhumanity to man, and evil finding its way into the hearts of people, then whether it is change for good or change for bad, change there will be.
The question we need to ask this day in the midst of that change, in this mutable world, is what does the word of God say to us as we move into it? Let me address this through today's passage from Corinthians. It is an unusual choice of passage, because we normally read it on occasions such as weddings, to talk about love and such nice things. But one of the things we do not realize is this passage contains Paul's profound understanding of the nature of change. For Paul, everything from the moment that Jesus came changed, and nothing would ever be the same. Indeed, so strong was his conviction that Jesus had brought about a profound change in the world and had altered everything, that he looked at the whole of life through the lens of the arrival of the Son of God. He saw everything through that lens. For Paul, there was no looking back to old-time religion, because for Paul, old-time religion was simply not going to work. No, the arrival of Jesus was something new that would forever change the landscape of human life. For Paul, this affected anything and everything.
In the context of writing 1 Corinthians 13, Paul was dealing with a problem concerning spiritual gifts. According to Paul, all of us are gifted in some way: It could be the gift of faith to move mountains; it might be wise and profound speech; it might be the gift of all knowledge; it might be the gift of prophecy; it might be the gift of healing. Whatever the spiritual gift we might have, the gift of the spirit is a powerful thing. But for the Apostle Paul, even these great and glorious gifts, will pass away. When we get caught up in our own giftedness, in our own abilities, when we get caught up with all the things we can do for God, at moments like that, we need to understand that even those gifts are mutable, even those gifts are subject to change. We might have them for a while, but they might be taken from us.
For Paul, then, only three things could really abide, three things could really last, and when all these other things pass away, there remain these three. The first is a Greek word, “pistis” which means “faith” and in particular really means “our convictions” or “our beliefs.” It is something that we have, it is something we believe God can do, it is our actual personal faith. So, after the passing of other gifts this faith, conviction, assurance remains: all these good things that enable us to live our lives. Then, he uses another Greek word, “elpô,” which means “hope.” By hope, Paul means confidence in the future; a sense that everything will work out for the good; a sense that God will continue to work for the good in the future, and that this reality is something that we can enjoy and benefit from. The third thing is “love” - in Greek, “agapê” - and this is God's love, a unique but specific love, a revealed love, a love that is borne in the very heart of the Almighty.
Thus, Paul says that as the world changes, all these other things will pass away, but faith, hope and love will remain. These are the abiding realities. Then, there is a twist, and this is what I really want you to grasp this morning. He says something that often leaves us confounded: If faith, hope and love are the abiding realities, if they are the great immutable gifts, then why is love the greatest? He said, “These three abide, faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love.”
Why? It seems to me, first of all, because our faith will someday be unnecessary. The Apostle Paul is convinced of this one thing: That right now, in this life, we see through a glass darkly. Or we look in a clouded mirror, which is another good translation. In other words, our faith enables us to see both God and life, but in such a way that it is unclear, it is clouded, we are a little uncertain. Because of this cloudiness we are not able to grasp or understand the full reality of God's love and revelation, but what we see is, to use another of Paul's phrases “partial.” What we have and what we understand and what we perceive will pass away, but in heaven we will see it face-to-face.
Now, our faith for sure helps us in this life. Our faith is a means of getting us to that destination. It allows us to walk every day, as clouded as it might be, on our path towards God. It is faith for the journey. It is that which justifies us. It is that which puts us right with God. It is that which makes every single day bearable. If we do not have faith, even as cloudy as it is, we don't have that much to help us on the journey. Perhaps faith one day will be unnecessary, when we see God face-to-face. Just think about it - what an incredible day that will be! What an incredible gift that is: Our faith, this great cherished thing that we have held onto so fervently in this life, will no longer be needed! We will see God face-to-face.
Paul also says we will have hope, but hope will also become unnecessary. Hope is something that we have because we have not yet seen our faith fulfilled. Hope is something that is always looking into the future, precisely because we expect it to be fulfilled or consummated. Hope is what keeps us going. I have thought about that, and I have thought about all the changes that have taken place in the life of our congregation, and I have been thinking about the changes to our building, and among our staff. I have thought about the changes that have really struck the heart of this congregation over the last few weeks, as we have had so many of our brethren pass away. I refer to their families, who are living with the changes - the mutability of life - and how hope has kept them together. Hope has given them the strength to move on. It is hope that has enabled them to endure even the greatest difficulties in life. As we go into 2006, we need to know that that faith and that hope that we need so much now will eventually be unnecessary, for what we hope for we will realize. What we hope for we will see and experience. What we hope for will have arrived.
I don't know about you, but what really irritates me about sports broadcasters during tournaments is when a team finally wins a championship, and one of the first questions a reporter asks either the coach or the star player is this (and this happened again just a couple of days ago when the Canadian junior men won the world championship): No sooner did Coach Sutter come to the mike than they asked him, “Will you be back again next year?” Have you noticed that? You win the Super Bowl, and the first question they ask the quarterback is: “Will you be back to defend it next year?” I loved Sutter's answer, and I wish every coach had given it before. He said, “It doesn't matter. We have just won.” It doesn't matter, because we have won. How stupid, to ask about next year when they are just lifting the trophy! Hope, at some point, becomes unnecessary. You have just won. Hope will fade away. It won't be necessary. You will see God face-to-face.
But love, ah! The greatest of these is love! Why? Because love is never unnecessary! Love is the end. Love is the trophy. Love is the gold. First John Four puts it this way: “God is Love. At the end of the journey, when love, faith and hope enable us to survive, love is the end and therefore it is so rightly said that love never ends, it begins.” Love does not change. Everything else does, but love remains. Even if you have all the power and all the gifts, even if your faith is great enough to move mountains, and you have all the hope in the world, the fact is, if you do not have love, God's love, you have nothing.
That love never changes, but what does need to change is us. We need to change. That is what we need to do if we are to receive love. Paul said that getting that love is a maturation process. “When I was a child,” he said, “I felt like a child and I reasoned like a child, but now I have thrown away childish things.” The love of God, in other words, is the maturing of our being into God's being. It is the very idea that we, through our faith and our hope in Christ, come to know love and serve God. Eric Fromm, the great psychoanalytical thinker, once said: “Infantile love follows the principle, ”˜I love because I am loved.' Mature love follows the principle ”˜I am loved because I love.' Immature love says ”˜I love you because I need you.' Mature love says ”˜I need you because I love you.'”
God's love then, is that very mature love. It is a love that does not keep a record of wrongs, and Lord knows, in this city, with its gang warfare, that keeping a record of wrongs is one of our big problems. Keeping a record of wrongs is to forget the love of God. God's love cannot tolerate the wrong, the unrighteous. It cannot spare that which is untruthful. As Paul says, “It rejoices in the right,” and by the right, he means the good. He means in God's law and God's covenant. That's what love is. That's mature love. That is the love that is revealed in God. It is not a love that is immature, but one that grows, and what God wants from us as we change in a changing year is to grow into that love which changes not, that is immutable when everything else is mutable.
This brings me back to what happened to Coyote. It seems to me that this is the parable of human life, and how God treats us. I think that like my friend and his dog, we are often homeless and vulnerable; we are often weak and ailing. As we change, we cannot always stand up for ourselves. We are people in need. This is all humanity, because all humanity is in need. But just one act of love saved the dog. One act of love changed my friend's homelessness into security. God's one act of love, as Paul knew, was called Jesus Christ, and this one act of love brings humanity home. And with all the changes we are going to face in the new year and the challenges and the travails, all the ups and the optimisms and triumphs, and all the downs, the fact is, at the heart of it all is one, unchanging, abiding reality: God's love that never changes. Amen.
This is a verbatim transcription of the original sermon.