5/16/04

Risk-Taking

Psalm 67
Acts 15:1-2, 6-11, 22-29
John 14:23-37

This morning we're going to talk about risk-taking, a practice that individuals need to do in order to grow, that churches need to do in order to be faithful, that any entity needs to do in order to remain strong and vital. But first, we're going to talk about lobsters. Lobsters are a delicacy enjoyed by many of us, but creatures that most of us know very little about, I'll bet. One fascinating thing about lobsters that I've learned is how they grow bigger as they mature. We all know what a hard shell a lobster has, and we know that lobsters come in many sizes. But how do the big ones get so big?

At regular intervals throughout its life, a lobster simply sheds its shell and grows a new one. When life gets too cramped in its existing shell, the lobster finds a relatively safe spot to rest, its old shell is discarded, and in its place, the new pink membrane just inside the old shell becomes the new shell, just big enough for its growing body to live in. And yet, there is risk involved in this process of nature, since before the new shell hardens like the old, the lobster is very vulnerable to predator fish and the rough sea-floor environment. But in order to grow, the lobster has to take that risk. (i)

This bit of crustacean information is a fitting metaphor for our primary message this morning. Throughout Biblical history the people of God have taken risks in order to move forward in their lives. Abraham and Sarah at ripe old ages gave up everything, left the past behind, and took the risk of embarking on a journey, having no idea where they would end up. Moses risked his great personal status in the Pharaoh's court, by reacting in an activist way to the mistreatment of his countryman. Later he risked his very life in leading his people out of Egypt and into the wilderness. There are many others risk-takers throughout the Bible, up to and beyond the time of Jesus, including a young maiden by the name of Mary, who took a significant risk and accepted the rather unbelievable notion that she would conceive and give birth to the Messiah by way of the Holy Spirit. A pregnant, single, teenage girl in first-century Jewish society risked more than being ostracized - she risked being stoned to death. Jesus himself took many risks in what he said (at times very inflammatory to the authorities), in what he did (good deeds on the Sabbath, the healings, and other miracles), and with whom he associated (tax collectors and prostitutes were not the kind of folks that religious people socialized with). And, of course, his risky actions and risky words finally got him into ultimate trouble, and he willingly risked and sacrificed his own life.

All this leads us to the examples of risk-taking in our story today from Acts. A rather heated disagreement develops between members of the early church in Antioch and "certain individuals" from Judea. It centers around the notion of salvation, with the Judeans insisting that circumcision, that is, becoming a Jew first, is the only way to be saved. Paul, Barnabas, and the folks of Antioch, the latter, mostly Gentiles (non-Jews) say no, becoming a Jew first is not necessary to become a follower of Jesus. This group wants the church to break out of its shell of traditionalism, whereas the first group prefers the safety of the shell. So, Paul and a few companions are sent to Jerusalem to try to get the issue resolved by the Council of Apostles there. Peter, who had already spread the faith to other Gentiles, gives an impassioned speech, testifying that God has already given the Gentiles the Holy Spirit, and, in his words, God "has made no distinction between them and us."

After much debate it is decided by James, Jesus' brother, to send a letter to the church in Antioch, agreeing with Peter and Paul that all are saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, that circumcision would not be required of Gentiles, but requesting that the Gentiles abide by some basic dietary rules and refrain from fornication. This is a bold, risky step that James takes, a compromise position between the hard-liners and new-comers that could have split the church wide open. But, it is important to note, it did not split the church. Heading the delegation carrying the letter back to Antioch is Paul and Barnabas, who had already, as the letter from the Council said, "risked their lives for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ." How fitting that risk-takers would be sent back to challenge their brothers and sisters to become risk-takers themselves - to break out of their old shells, to change, to grow. (ii)

In addition to a salvation issue, there is an inclusion/exclusion issue here, also. And you can see it coming from almost the first chapter in Acts. The Apostles hoped that this Jesus Movement would spread like wildfire from Jerusalem to Judea to Samaria to the ends of the earth. But did anyone really believe that it would? Things were fine until they got out of their home territory. People in Jerusalem were Jews, so they were okay. People in Judea were the same - okay. The Samaritans? Well, they never got along very well with them, but they were sort of second cousins, so okay. Then comes Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch. Some people start mumbling, "There goes the neighborhood." But when Peter brings in the Roman soldier, Cornelius, that's the last straw. You could have predicted it. "Open up the door to the Samaritans, and look who else comes strolling in. Well, at least there's only one of him." But, of course, it doesn't stop there. Mrs. Cornelius also wants to join, and they've got some non-Kosher friends, and all of a sudden, the church has itself a serious Gentile problem.

It wasn't so much who can be saved that was important - well, it was, but this was also covering up something deeper. There were folks in the early church who just had a hard time with those who were different from themselves. They were not willing to risk change. If you want to join my church, you have got to change and be like me, they said. And it's not much different two thousand years later, is it? The church still resists change and practices exclusivity. The Roman Catholic Church still refuses to let their priests marry, and God forbid that a woman would want to be ordained. But are we Protestants any better? No. Denominations still endlessly debate whether gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgendered persons should be fully part of the body of Christ. Our Deacons and I are going to start a conversation on this subject sometime this coming Fall, leading I hope to a series of forums at which everyone who is interested will have a chance to participate. Churches sometimes struggle with a variety of social issues. They struggle with self-identity issues -theological questions about fundamentalism, Pentecostalism, evangelicalism, liberalism, conservatism, and everything in between. Is there room in the church for all of these? What about those "gentiles," those folks who may not be quite like us? Easy answer - why, they must first become like us. What about including them as they are? Well, we're not so sure about that. And finally, Peter's statement about God making "no distinction between them and us," what does this really mean? Bottom line - it's risky to follow the gospel too closely, and sometimes, very confusing.

Earlier during Jesus' life, he said something about the kingdom of God being like a giant fishing net which is cast wide into the sea, and which pulls in sea creatures of every kind. I believe that's the net of God's grace, the net that stands for an inclusive God, who makes "no distinction between them and us." For sure, we all need God's grace as much as anyone we might perceive to be different from us. We all fall short of perfection, but we are all saved by God's grace.

It's risky to consider doing things differently, risky letting into our midst those who are different from us. It's risky because we know that if we do, we might change, and that thought can be very scarey. Yet, what do we risk by not becoming risk-takers? A church risks becoming stale, unbending, maybe even unfaithful, and an individual risks stagnation and lack of growth. I had an unusual pre-marital counseling case a few years ago. The couple had known each other for two or three years, they said they loved each other, but he had been having a hard time coming to the point of making a commitment to the marriage they were about to embark upon. He honestly couldn't take the risk of committing himself to this person whom he claimed he loved. It was the saddest pre-marital counseling I've ever done, and the first time I'd ever come to the conclusion that I could not in good conscience marry this couple. There were tears all around as they departed, all because one of them couldn't risk stepping out into the unknown.

Let me share this little piece of wisdom with you written by motivational author, Edgar Gibson, Jr.: "To laugh is to risk appearing a fool. To weep is to risk appearing sentimental. To reach out for another is to risk involvement. To expose feelings is to risk rejection. To place your dreams before the crowd is to risk ridicule. To love is to risk not being loved in return. To go forward in the face of overwhelming odds is to risk failure. But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. Those who risk nothing, do nothing, have nothing, are nothing. They may avoid suffering and sorrow, but they cannot learn, feel, change, grow, or love. Chained by their certitudes, they are slaves. They have forfeited their freedom. Only those who take risks are [truly] free." (iii)

Everything meaningful in life requires risk-taking, but if we rely upon God the process is easier. In Jesus' comments to his disciples, from the portion of the Gospel of John known as his "farewell discourse," Jesus begins by stressing the importance of love, our love of God and God's love of us, which enables us to love one another. Of course, even to love is to risk, yet, "healing and new life springs up when we take the risk of love, even when we feel baffled, upset, or threatened by the change of heart love requires." (iv)

Jesus goes on to tell his followers about the Holy Spirit which God will send to them when he has gone, and what he will leave behind is the promise of peace. What an appropriate last word to hear as we try to absorb the news with all the desperation, death, destruction, terror, and abuse, emanating from the Middle Eastern parts of the world these days, especially in Israel, Palestine, and Iraq. People of goodwill long for peace. And yet the peace that Jesus offers is more than an absence of conflict. The peace of the Lord is not an escape from worry and woe, but rather, the power of God within to overcome it. The peace of God is not a shield that protects us, like that hard shell of the lobster, but rather a force that empowers us, (v) that empowers us to become risk-takers, to become lovers, to become welcomers of all who pass our way, that empowers us to become everything that God would have us become. Only fear prevents us from realizing our full potential, and Jesus has assured us that with his abiding presence, we need not let our hearts be troubled, we need not be afraid. God has caught all of us in the giant net of divine grace, regardless of who we are or what we have done. So, be a risk-taker and live fully in God's grace. Amen.

The Pilgrim Church of Duxbury
Rev. Kenneth C. Landall

i Pulpit Resource, 5/24/92.
ii Ibid.
iii Edgar Gibson, Pulpit Resource, op. cit.
iv Katherine Latimer, Word & Witness, 5/24/92.
v R. Carl Frazier, Jr. Abingdon Preacher's Annual, 1992, 5/24/92.