Common Grace For the Common Good

Last Sunday, we were almost a million miles away from Washington, D.C.

At least it seemed that way.

We were on a little island called Bowen Island off of the coast of Vancouver

in the British Columbia part of North America.

If you know that part of the world, it's the only place in North America

where the ocean actually meets the mountains.

It's a glorious place to see and to hear and to smell when the sun is shining,

which it isn't always, of course.

But I was preaching in a little chapel, a chapel on the side of a mountain

with islanders and mainlanders together reflecting on lamentation, longing,

and the promise of Pentecost.

So we're back in Washington, D.C., where we lived for 30 years,

the city known the world over for its monumental glories and its social shames.

As you all know, it's a city full of wonders and of wounds,

like every city and every society in every century.

I've called this common grace for the common good.

Let's pray together.

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, we give ourselves to you to worship you,

to listen to you, to learn from you,

to offer ourselves, heart and mind, soul and strength to you.

In Jesus' name, amen.

Words, words, and more words.

As one observer of the 20th century recently noted,

through mobile phones, the Internet, electronic mail, television, radio,

newspapers, books, etc.,

people receive about 105,000 words or 23 words per second in just half a day.

Although people cannot really read 105,000 words each day,

this is the real number estimated to be reaching the human eyes and ears every day.

After adding pictures, videos, games, etc.,

we reach the volume of 34 gigabytes of information per day on average.

If it feels overwhelming, it is overwhelming.

And what do we need to do with all that we see and hear,

word after word after word?

In the years I taught on Capitol Hill,

James Billington was the librarian of Congress in those years.

And one day in the Sunday paper of the Washington Post,

there was a top-of-the-fold interview with Billington,

and it was called The Info Glut Culture, blaring across the page.

And essentially, Billington was saying that we get thousands and thousands and thousands

of books into our library week after week, year after year.

And of course, that's only increased as the weeks have gone by since he did this interview.

But this question, which I've never forgotten, was this.

What are we going to do with all this information?

Will we become a wiser people knowing all that we know,

hearing all that we have heard?

If it feels overwhelming, it is overwhelming.

But sometimes, sometimes, words are well chosen.

They're artfully, insightfully giving us windows into the truth about life and the world,

about the truth about who we are as sons of Adam and daughters of Eve.

John Le Carre was a writer that I've read most of his work.

Maybe you know his work as well.

A British spy, many years ago, wrote a novel called The Spy Who Came In From the Cold,

which kind of threw him into a pantheon of globally listened-to writers.

Began to write and write about the Cold War until there wasn't a Cold War any longer,

and then finally began to write about this globalizing, politicizing world which is ours today.

And it seems that I read his work, whether it's The Constant Guard, which became a film along the way,

or you can kind of make your choices of his work.

It feels to me like his novels are about what I see in the front page of the newspapers

as I watch them day by day.

It's like I live in the world that John Le Carre writes about.

The hard part of Le Carre's work, in my mind, is this.

He masterfully understands his world.

He captures his world.

He understands the political economy, the way peoples are, nations are,

how we relate to each other, what places are.

He gets all that masterfully.

And the end of every story, though, is this.

We ought to all choose to be cynics.

Because, of course, at the end of the day, somebody's going to get shot in the back.

Somebody's going to get their life ruined.

Somebody's going to lose everything.

And so prepare yourself to be a cynic one more time.

One more time.

It's hard.

They're hard to read, except, of course, he's a brilliant writer.

And it's humbling to realize that he understands our world so well.

So very, very well.

He put it this way in a recent novel called Absolute Friends.

It says that we are people with a desperate appeal for a glimmer of hope in a world that has collapsed around his ears.

Hear these words again.

A desperate appeal for a glimmer of hope in a world that has collapsed around his ears.

More despairing than maybe we wanted on a Sunday evening.

Perhaps then it's also true that each one of us has come into this building, into this place tonight.

Among these people, having lived for the last six days in a very wounded, bent, and bruised world.

From global terrors to national griefs to the very personal hurts and sorrows that are ours.

We all long for glimmers of hope, don't we?

We all know that we are broken and that we live in a broken world.

How do we make sense of life, though?

How do we make sense of this life?

Of this world?

Of the world which we call our world?

Especially the fallen world, the bruised and the wounded world that it is.

I don't know of any question that's harder in my own living life as I do day by day.

Looking at the brokenness and the hurt and the wound of the world,

what am I going to do without it?

How am I going to respond to it?

How will I sing, holy, holy, holy, God?

How will I somehow confess that I don't want to stumble over the same earthly, heavenly realities that Nicodemus did?

It makes sense of who I am and what I'm to do in the world.

How am I going to hold what I believe about God and myself together in a coherent way?

Well, we confess week by week, don't we?

Liturgically remembering our deepest commitments.

We most believe to be true about who God is, who we are, what the world is like.

We say, we believe.

I believe.

People of Christ have been doing this for thousands of years.

I believe in God.

I believe that he is the maker of heaven and earth.

And these are the confessions of our faith.

But you see, even these words are weighted words because they are formed by a deeper belief about the way the world is,

about what it's possible to know about the world.

If we were in another setting, perhaps we might more easily use the language of meta-narrative.

But you see, the argument we make as a people of God is that we've been given a story to understand our own stories within.

A meta-narrative for all the narratives which make up who we are in this assembly tonight.

But you see, it's an argument, a thesis, a conviction, a belief that in fact there is a story that makes sense of all the stories.

What world do we live in anyway?

What do our lives mean anyway?

How ought we to live?

How is it possible to live a good life?

A morally meaningful life.

The writers along the way that I've been listening to,

St. Alistair McIntyre, who wrote a book called After Virtue some years ago.

I spent most of a month of my life reading it very carefully.

But he has this simple sentence along the way.

I can only ask the question, what am I to do?

If I've asked the prior question, of what story or stories do I find myself apart?

Hear him say this again.

I can only ask the question, what am I to do?

If I've asked the prior question, of what story or stories do I find myself apart?

Well, I want to look tonight with you at a few ideas, bigger ideas.

And I've placed them under these categories.

The Bible as a completely unique book.

The Bible as a completely unique book.

And then secondly, looking at what I've simply called common grace for the common good.

And then finally, expectation affects program.

Expectation affects program.

So the Bible, a completely unique book.

Words, words, and more words one more time.

In the scriptures, there's a grand drama being set forth for us.

A story which claims to make sense of all the stories.

Probably almost 30 years ago, I was teaching on Capitol Hill.

And I had opportunity to invite a man named Leslie Newbigin to come to Washington, D.C. to speak.

He was in his 80s at the time and wasn't going to make many more trips to any parts of the world.

He was British.

Had lived 40 years in India.

He'd written a number of books.

His most recent book was sent to me by the Anglican Bishop of Pittsburgh at the time.

And we had been conspiring together to think about these questions of theology and culture and life in the world together.

And I got the book called The Gospel in a Pluralist Society.

And it was exciting to me to read this book.

This great, great question he was raising.

In a pluralizing world, can we still speak any longer about a gospel which claims to be true?

Is that a possibility?

And you realize, living in the world that we do, in the city in which we live, that's a huge question for us.

In a pluralist society, does it make sense to believe the Bible is true, true like that, for everyone everywhere?

Well, we had a lunch on Capitol Hill with him, some of my friends who were reading the book together.

They were in think tanks and the State Department and the Justice Department and the Senate and the Supreme Court,

all reading this book together, trying to make sense of our own vocations in the city of Washington.

And along the way, we were asking questions, and he asked lots of questions to us.

But I had a question for him, which I asked after the lunch that day.

And I said to him, who was your Hindu friend, the Hindu scholar that you write about?

If you know the book at all, maybe you know the story he tells of this Hindu scholar who said to him at one point,

I don't know why when Christian missionaries brought us this holy book, your Bible, your holy book,

that they said to us, add this to your supply, read this one too,

as if somehow it was just one more book to read.

And the Hindu scholar said to Newbigin,

I've now read this book from beginning to end.

And you need to know that I think of it as a completely unique book, actually.

There's no book like it I've ever, ever read.

It's a book which claims to make sense of,

because it does make sense of all of history from beginning to end.

And it makes sense of who we are as human beings,

as responsible actors in history.

And of course, the two go together, the view of history and the view of the human condition.

They go together because they define each other.

They shape each other.

A completely unique book, unique in its understanding of history and of the human condition.

I've often wondered, actually, being in rooms where Christian people have gathered,

thinking about these questions as I do week after week,

what would it be like just to walk along the pews, along the seats we have together,

and ask the question, well, how do you read the Bible?

Do you see it as a completely unique book?

Because you need to remember, of course, as we must tonight,

that the Hindu scholar is a scholar of the Hindu tradition,

the Hindu way of making sense of life in the world.

And the Hindu religion, Hindu worldview, of course,

there are many, many ways to go, because there are many gods.

There are many, many ways to make sense of life,

and we all are finding our way, finally, to a full and complete enlightenment along the way.

Someday, someday, that's our great, great hope as Hindus.

So for the Hindu to say, in fact, this is not like any other book.

It's a completely unique book.

I found those words chilling, actually.

Would we see what the Hindu scholars saw?

Would we see it as a completely unique book?

Well, this Bible, as we call it, offers us a story from beginning to end.

It is the history of redemption unfolded, book by book,

telling the story of the beginning of beginnings,

the skewing of human souls and all of life,

the disorienting and disordering of who we are and why we are,

with the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent

in deepening conflict throughout history.

Coming to the end of the end, of course,

which in reality is the end of a new beginning,

the very end of the story.

Story by story is what the Hindu scholars saw,

a completely unique book,

making sense of all of history

and of the human being as a responsible actor in history.

There's no other book like it.

But come with me for a moment back into this story

and dwell with me for a few moments

in the prophet Zechariah as we've come to see him in history.

His own vocation, of course,

was to speak the word of the Lord

in the last years of Daniel's life

in the reign of Darius.

Chapter by chapter,

it's a story of the great mercy of God,

the waywardness of the human heart.

And threaded through from beginning to end

is the promise that it will not always be this way,

that someday when the day of the Lord comes,

all will be made well.

Everything and everyone will be well.

If chapter 1 has the words,

come home,

come home,

don't be like your fathers.

Chapter 2 puts it this way,

be silent, all flesh,

before the Lord,

for he has roused himself from his holy hill.

It's a reminder

that some of our best songs, of course,

some of our most important songs

are Christmas carols,

let all mortal flesh be silent.

Chapter 3,

in that day,

declares the Lord of hosts,

every one of you will invite his neighbors

to come under his vine

and under his fig tree.

It's a remarkable vision of hospitality,

if you remember Abraham and the Trinity

in our earlier picture on the screen.

Chapter 4,

these seven lamps are the eyes of the Lord,

which reigns through the whole earth.

There are more visions, of course,

enough of flying scrolls,

women in baskets,

four chariots.

In chapter 7,

it comes like this,

in the fourth year of King Darius,

the word of the Lord came to Zechariah

on the fourth day of the ninth month,

which is Chislev.

Render true judgments,

show kindness and mercy to one another.

Do not oppress the widow,

the fatherless,

the sojourner,

or the poor.

Let none of you devise evil

against another in your heart.

As I called,

and they would not hear,

so they called,

and I will not hear,

says the Lord of hosts.

The next chapters are full of promises

of peace and prosperity to Zion,

with wonderful perennial images

that bring smiles to human hearts

in every century,

every culture,

every city.

Old men and old women

shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem,

and the streets shall be full of boys and girls

playing in the streets,

and it shall be marvelous in my sight.

This deep longing is satisfied,

is brought about by the king who comes,

quote,

humbled and mounted on a donkey,

who shall speak peace to the nations.

His rule shall be from sea to sea,

from the river to the ends of the earth.

And then someday,

someday the house of Judah will be restored,

because the Lord cares for his flock,

because God remembers,

Yahweh remembers,

says Zechariah,

who says to the people of Israel,

I will pour out on the house of David

and the inhabitants of Jerusalem

a spirit of grace

and pleas for mercy.

So when they look on me,

whom they've pierced,

they shall mourn for him

as one mourns for an only child.

And finally,

the prophecy comes to an end,

what we call the 14th chapter.

Behold,

a day is coming for the Lord,

who will be king over all the earth.

On that day the Lord will be one,

and his name one.

On that day,

there shall be inscribed

on the bells of the horses,

holy to the Lord.

And the pots in the house of the Lord

shall be as bowls before the altar,

and every pot in Jerusalem,

and Judah shall be called

holy to the Lord of hosts.

John Calvin,

the theologian,

pastor,

attorney,

of 400 years ago,

writing in Geneva,

Switzerland,

put it this way.

We now see that when Zechariah

meant was this,

that God would so claim

the whole world as his own,

as to consecrate people

and all their possessions

wholly to his own service.

So there'd be no longer

any uncleanness,

that whether they ate

or drank

or engaged in war,

or undertook any other work,

all things would be pure and holy,

for God would always be

before their eyes.

Well, yes,

for Zechariah,

for the people of the day,

there was muck,

and there was a lot of mess

to history.

The pots,

as they were,

were both full of wonder

and horror,

the stables of glory

and of stench.

And we are called

to remember to remember,

as Zechariah did for himself,

people of Israel,

that what is,

is not what someday will be.

Like the Hindu scholar,

if we have eyes to see,

if we read the Bible,

paying attention

to what God is saying

to history and to us,

then we begin to make sense

of who we are

and why we are,

and what the world is about

and what we are to be about.

Well,

the question of today is this,

what am I going to do

with the world?

We have to find a way

to see more seamlessly,

to understand our life

and world more coherently.

Again,

coming back to Nicodemus

and Jesus,

as they talked late one night,

the debate comes over,

how do you,

can understand earthly things

if you can't understand

heavenly things,

and heavenly if not earthly,

and you can see that

for Nicodemus,

the teacher of Israel

as he was,

he stumbled over

trying to make sense

of his own place

in the world,

in the world in which he lived.

I think that's a question

for all of us, actually.

It's a very difficult question

for all of us.

I have for years now

resided within

this simple phrase,

which comes to mean

a lot to me,

common grace

for the common good.

Why those words, though?

What do they mean?

Common grace

for the common good.

Because of what I do

with my life,

I've been doing

for most of my life,

I've spent hours

and hours

and hours

at the coffee tables

of the world,

the little coffee shops

of this city

and other cities,

often responding

to questions like,

what about me,

25-year-old that I am?

What about me,

a 32-year-old that I am?

What about me,

a 46-year-old that I am?

What about me,

what about me?

How do I make sense

of my life?

What am I supposed

to do with my life?

In different ways,

of course,

there are always questions

about the meaning

of vocation,

which is a good word,

even if it's

a complex word.

But there are always

questions about

the possibility

of a coherent life.

In very different ways,

we stumble over our lives,

we stumble over our world,

more often than not,

settling for some kind

of dualism,

for compartmentalizing

what we believe

about the world

from the way

we live in the world.

Psychologically,

we do so.

Politically,

we do so.

Sexually,

economically,

at work and at play,

not sure how to see

everything as holy

to the Lord.

common grace

is simply

ordinary grace.

Ordinary grace,

the stuff of life.

The stuff of your life,

of my life,

if we have eyes

to see it

as it is.

Common grace,

of course,

is not saving grace,

and the best theology

makes that distinction.

God's work

is saving grace.

But you see,

if the only way

we have to make sense

of life is that

these things are God's,

these things are heavenly,

these things are earthly,

well,

you see,

it's got to either be sacred

or it's going to be secular.

If we can only do that

with our lives in the world,

we stumble over

our lives in the world.

And the church

has been plagued

by that debilitating dualism

with many faces

over its many years.

In the best tradition,

though,

as the church in the world,

we're called to live

most of life

in ordinary time.

Ordinary time,

which is most of the time.

rhythmically making our way

through the year,

lingering over the days

and seasons of Advent,

of Christmas,

of Epiphany,

of Lent,

of Easter,

of Pentecost,

day by day remembering

to remember

that all of life

is holy to the Lord.

Day by day remembering

that everything,

everything,

every square inch

of the whole of reality

belongs to Jesus

who alone is Lord.

Even as we are being formed

in mind and heart

to live most of our days

in the ordinary world

of ordinary time.

There are many ordinary graces

in this fallen world

and when we offer them

in and through our lives,

our varied and various locations,

our cities and our societies flourish.

The smile of a baby,

the laughter of children,

the beauty of cherry blossoms

and of autumn leaves,

the hugs and kisses

of holy love,

a wonderfully imagined house

full of well-loved furniture,

good and just laws

that honor one another,

and cooking pots too,

of course,

cooking pots too,

ready to serve others

as,

to serve us

as we serve others,

full of mouth-watering smells

that finally satisfy

our stomachs

with taste

that God alone

could imagine.

We could,

of course,

if we were prone to do so

and had bank accounts

that allowed it,

go to the local

Williams and Sonoma store

and spend $800

on a fire engine red

cooking pot.

We could do that,

couldn't we?

We could also go to Home Depot

and find a $37.99

aluminum cooking pot

and do much the same

kind of thing.

But maybe you're like me

and you've eaten dinner,

eaten supper

around a small little place

in western Kenya

in a small village

where, in fact,

they've taken dirt

from the ground,

clay from the ground,

they've wetted it,

they've fired it,

they've built

their own clay pot

and they've put their chicken

and onions inside the pot

and they've, of course,

longed for food

for one more day

and they've been satisfied

that day.

You see,

every house

on the face of the earth,

whether it's a high-rise condo

looking out of the city

of Washington

or Vancouver,

whether it's a humble

little hut

in the western villages

of Kenya,

every, every, every home

has a cooking pot.

So for me,

it's remarkable

that, in fact,

in God's own surprising gift

to us,

he would say,

when the day of the Lord comes,

it's the cooking pots

that would be called

holy to the Lord.

So very ordinary,

so very common,

yet if we have eyes to see,

it is a common grace,

isn't it?

It's a gift for us

living our lives

in the world.

This is why

I've loved my friend Hans

and his hamburgers.

Maybe you've eaten

an Elevation burger

along the way

in your life

in Washington,

but Hans

has become a friend

in his years here

and he first just put up

a little store

in Falls Church, Virginia

on Lee Highway

and I entered into

his life early on

in that period

and I began to have

conversation with him

about who he was

and why he was making

hamburgers that

tasted so good

and french fries

that actually

were pretty good.

You fried them where?

You fried them in what?

In olive oil?

Well, why olive oil?

Because you see,

our stomachs take

olive oil in better

than other kinds of oil.

And what are these hamburgers

made from?

From cows that you

carefully picked out

because they were

naturally fed

and they were

organically produced

and what is it

about these?

And I began to realize

that some years ago

I was no longer

18 years old

and I couldn't eat

a Five Guys hamburger

or a McDonald's

Big Mac

at 11 o'clock

at night

and sleep for the rest

and I would be

sick to my stomach

actually for hours

to come.

And I began to think

though,

but what is it

about your food,

Hans,

that allows me

to go back

to work at 1 p.m.

in the afternoon

having had lunch

with you

and I don't even

think about it

because my stomach

somehow takes in

what you've made

and I think,

well,

who are you,

Hans,

and why do you

make hamburgers

like this?

Tommy Hinson,

your rector here,

is a good friend to me

and he went

to a good seminary.

We had some

of his seminary students,

not his,

but the seminary students

come to spend

a week with us

a few years ago

wanting to think

about vocations

in the city

of Washington.

We took them

to the hill

and to downtown

and to this

and to this

and had lunch

with Hans

and his hamburgers

one day.

They wondered

why Hans

didn't have signs

in the store

saying these

are John 3.16

hamburgers.

And you think,

you really asked

that question?

You wanted there

to be some kind

of sign in the store

saying,

of course I'm a Christian,

I make Christian hamburgers,

holy hamburgers,

of course they will be there.

They asked that question

to you, Hans?

Well, they did

and I still groan

over that actually.

Hans has this sign

instead when you walk

into the store,

burgers the way

they're meant to be.

Burgers the way

they're meant to be.

You see,

like with Jesus

who tells a little story

about a man

who has seed

and sows it

and some comes up

and some doesn't

and he says,

if you have ears

to hear,

then hear.

Hans was essentially

saying,

if you have a tongue

to taste,

then taste.

And come in

and taste my hamburgers

and my fries

and then if you have

a question,

you can ask more

about why are they

and what do you mean

a hamburger

the way it's meant

to be.

I've teased him

over the years

of creating

eschatological hamburgers

and eschatology

is the part of theology

that speaks about

the last things,

the very end things

and end of time.

I can't promise Hans

that his hamburgers

will be on that

marriage supper

of the lamb

long, long table.

But what I am sure

of is that everything

on the table

will be healthy

and tasty

at the very same time.

There'll be no trade-offs

of course.

There won't be a donut end

and an apple end.

It'll all be wonderfully healthy,

wonderfully tasty together.

And so for Hans

to do his best now

to create healthy,

tasty food,

you see it's a signpost

of a world

that someday

is going to be.

Someday will be.

They're eschatological hamburgers,

hamburgers the way

they're meant to be.

A year ago

the magazine Men's Health

after doing

what they called

the burger chain smackdown

starting with all

the big chains in America,

all of them

down to this

and then this

and then this

and finally

who won at the end

of the day

last spring 2017

Elevation Burger 1.

Healthy and tasty together,

you see,

a little bit of earth,

a little bit of heaven

somehow there together

for us to not get sick

to our stomachs over

but to say,

well thanks be to God

for a good meal

with you today,

Hans.

You see,

common grace

for the common good

is ordinary life

for ordinary people.

It's always though

in the language

which comes to us

from Jeremiah the prophet,

seek the flourishing

of your city,

to plant trees,

to build houses,

to get married,

to have children.

Do good work

born of a love

for God

and for his world

right in the midst

of Babylon,

right in the midst

of Babylon.

I know that

living in other places

in America

and living in Canada now,

not living in Washington D.C.

all the time

as I did for so long.

People see Washington D.C.

differently

who don't live

inside the city.

Sometimes it's respect still,

sometimes it's really,

what?

But the idea of praying

for this flourishing

of Babylon,

it's almost like praying

for the flourishing

of Washington,

isn't it?

You think,

well why would I pray

for Washington to flourish?

How is this word

a word for me?

Unless Washington flourishes,

you won't flourish?

Unless Babylon flourishes,

you won't flourish?

These are difficult,

historical,

complex questions.

It's quite a prayer actually

that Jeremiah gave

to Daniel,

to Meshach,

to Shadrach,

and to Abednego.

Seek the flourishing

of your city.

Common grace

for the common good.

Build houses,

plant trees.

These aren't saving graces,

they're ordinary graces.

I would say

that we need words

like this though

to make sense

of our lives.

We need a theology

deep enough

and true enough

to make sense

of our world.

We need to see

scripture in ways

that can make sense

of history

and of the human condition.

Common grace

for the common good

gives me a place

to stand,

gives me a way

to keep my heart

from the temptation

to call some things

sacred

and some things

secular,

to see some things

in life as holy

and other things

as not.

my grandfather

bought and sold

cattle in Colorado

and even though

I grew up in California,

most summers

I spent some weeks

with my grandparents

and one summer

at age 10

I was with him

in Cortez, Colorado,

the very southwestern

corner of Colorado

and he was buying

cattle that day

and one of the buyers

among many,

many buyers

from around Colorado,

from New Mexico,

from Albuquerque

and Denver

and other places

and he was known

to his colleagues

and to the auctioneer

and the auctioneer

stopped his auctioneer

call in the middle

of his work

that day

and said to my grandfather

sitting out

with other buyers

saying,

Mr. Gilchrist,

what are these cattle

selling for this week?

And I was 10

and so I didn't understand

all of it

but what I do remember

looking back

even in that

age 10 year

of my life

that the auctioneer

knew that my grandfather

would know the price

even if nobody else did

but he'd also be honest

about the price

and he trusted him

to be honest

about the price

and to know the price

and you think about

the markets

and marketplaces

of the world

and how much actually

is dependent upon

the common grace

of knowing

what you're supposed

to know

and being honest

about it

to the watching world

I knew though

from my grandfather

that good as he was

at what he did

that night by night

he would lead

my grandmother

my parents

my aunts and uncles

and cousins

and me

night by night

gathering together

after supper

with worship together

as a family

on our knees

and he would pray

and pray

for God's work

in the world

and some of the words

of his prayer

still ring their way

through my mind

most of my life

to get later

Saint Benedict

called this

Ora e Labora

when he called people

to follow him

and to take up

a common life together

as Roman civilization

was crumbling

and falling apart

Ora e Labora

to pray

and to work

together

not to somehow

choose one life

against another life

the prayers over here

the workers over here

but how would you

have a coherent life

a more seamless life

where praying

and work

were held together

for Benedict

for my grandfather

I've learned

from both

of course

well

for gardeners

for mechanics

for butchers

and bakers

for carpenters

and professors

for librarians

and nurses

for painters

and philosophers

for dentists

and doctors

for accountants

and lawyers

janitors

and business executives

architects

and artists

journalists

and farmers

economists

and politicians

everyone

everywhere

in and through

who we are

in and through

what we do

the call is to see

seamlessly

to see

sacramentally

I would say

where heaven

and earth

meet

where the truths

of heaven

meet the reality

of earth

where what God

cares about

is what we care about

what God loves

is what we love

burgers

the way

they're meant to be

the way they ought

to be

the way they

someday will be

loves and longings

hopes and dreams

friendships and families

everything

even cooking pots

and especially hamburgers

and yet

and yet

it's not that way

is it

it's not that way

and all day long

it isn't that way

and I said earlier on

this evening

we've all come from

a world where

it's just

not that way

hear again

these words

of John Le Carre

a desperate appeal

for a glimmer of hope

in a world

that's collapsed

around

his ears

we know

it's true

that we live

and move

and have our being

in a badly

broken world

what do we do

with the great

question of the day

and of our lives

can we know

this world

and still love

this world

living in the now

but not yet

of history

our common vocation

is to give ourselves

to untwisting

the twistedness

of life

and by the mercy

of God

being common grace

for the common good

we spend ourselves

twining together

heaven and earth

being and becoming

signposts

of the coherent

cosmos

that God

has made

and that we

are to steward

do you know

these words

I hope you do

Gandalf

I thought you were

dead

but then I thought

that I was dead

myself

is everything

sad

going to come

untrue

what's happened

to the world

a great shadow

has departed

said Gandalf

and then he laughed

and the sound

was like music

or like water

in a parched land

and as he listened

the thought came

to Sam

that he had not

heard laughter

the pure sound

of merriment

for days upon days

without count

of course these

are the words

of Tolkien

from the Lord

of the Rings

is everything

sad going to

come untrue

everything sad

going to come

untrue

I have for much

of my life

thought about

this phrase

expectation

affects program

expectation

affects program

what we believe

to be true

about the end

of history

affects the way

that we live

our lives

day by day

I dropped

out of college

about age 20

for a couple

of years

and lived

in a couple

of communes

one in the

Bay of California

one in Europe

and hitchhiked

a lot

and asked a lot

of questions

and ended up

in Phoenix

Arizona

for a while

with an Indian

philosopher

with a great

Indian name

Surrendra Gangadine

and he took me

into his own

council

and his own

studies

and his thinking

for a summer

and I asked

question upon

question upon

question

one of his

gifts to me

that summer

were these words

expectation

affects program

and of course

it's true of

Hindus

expectation

affects program

it's true of

Muslims

it's true of

Jews

it's true of

evolutionary

materialists

it's true of

hedonists

it's true of

Christians of course

that our expectation

about the future

shapes our lives

in the here

and now

well

expectation

affects program

so the day

of the Lord

and cooking

pots

have something

to say

to us

a last word

brothers and

sisters

and it's a

prayer

from generations

ago

from centuries

ago

echoing across

time

in this city

and this place

in it we hear

that other men

and women

have had the same

questions that we

do

have longed

just as we

do

wanting in their

hearts to see

seamlessly

to see all

of life as

holy to the

Lord

even as we

make peace

with the

proximate

character

of love

the proximate

reality of

our best

efforts

at work

the proximate

nature of

political life

and on and on

with every son

of Adam

and daughter

of Eve

we yearn for

the day

when everything

that is sad

will come

untrue

well

pray with me

as I pray

with the church

over the centuries

these words

first given

to God

in prayer

in Geneva

Switzerland

400 years

ago

grant almighty

God

as you have

deigned to

choose us

choose us

as your

peculiar treasure

and to

consecrate us

to yourself

in the person

of your only

begotten son

oh grant

that we may

so follow

holiness

through the

whole course

of our life

that thy

glory may

shine forth

in all

our works

that we may

never undertake

anything

except for

this end

that thy

name may

be ever

more

and more

glorified

we may

be holy

both in

body and

soul

and free

from all

the pollutions

of the

flesh

and of the

world

that we

may be

thus

confirmed

in the

hope

of our

calling

and be

encouraged

to proceed

during the

remainder

of our

course

till we

at length

shall reach

that glory

which has

been

procured

for us

by the

blood

of your

only

begotten

son

amen

yes

that thy

glory may

shine forth

in all

our

works

even

and especially

in our

cooking pots

our ordinary

lives and

labors and

loves

common grace

for the

common good

as they

are

amen

and amen