Jeremiah 23:1-6; Matthew 14:13-21
Presented July 31, 2011, by Joel Kline
The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
Donna and I recently spent a week’s vacation in Boston. Our hotel was located a fair distance from public transportation, so we were taking a hotel shuttle from the subway back to our lodging. A young family was in the seat in front of us, and as we made conversation, the older daughter—quick to let us know that she was 5½ years old—made note of my T-shirt highlighting a walk/run event, and asked me if I had run today. No, I explained, I used to run, but I’ve had some problems with my back, so now I walk instead. “Is that because you’re old?” asked the little girl, much to her parent’s chagrin. And then she continued, very matter-of-factly, “You must be old, because your hair is very white.”
While it may be a worthy discussion at some other time, my purpose this morning is not to consider my own aging process, except to note that with age has come a growing conviction that faith has far less to do with certainty, with having all the answers, than it does with a willingness to embrace a particular perspective towards life, to place one’s trust in the goodness of God—even, and perhaps especially, at those times when appearances would suggest the very opposite, when it looks as if pain and grief, violence and injustice and despair, may well have the final word in our living.
Increasingly I find myself impatient with those who are prone to reduce the Christian faith to little more than a series of outward rules and regulations, a checklist that would define who’s in and who’s out of the household of faith. The life of faith, by very definition, is not about exclusion, but about a willingness to grapple seriously with how to incorporate the incredible message of God’s gracious love. The life of faith is not about certainty, but instead, about risk-taking. Faith is a matter of trust, taking the risk of placing our lives in the hands of a God who reveals himself to us, in the words of biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann, through a “disruptive grace.”