'twas grace that brought us safe thus far

and grace will lead us home

A sermon on 1st Peter's admonition to converts:

 

Seeing as it’s a holiday weekend and we’re all a little distracted, let’s begin with some participation. Shall we? Here’s what I’d like you to consider: What’s one place you especially feel at home? And if you’re thinking of answering “home,” well, try to be a little more specific, please! Is there a particular room or effect that’s especially comforting to you? 

Start thinking, too. I’m going to ask you to share. For me, the answer would be that weird L-shaped sitting room in the parsonage. In particular, it would be sitting on the couch during January, as winter light poured in through the big picture window and reflected off the clean, hardwood floors. 

How’s that for specific? And you know what, I didn’t have to think that hard about it, either! I remember that moment so clearly. However, Amanda, no doubt, will be quick to point out she’s not in that example. 

But hey, what can I say? I like alone time. But what about you? What’s one place where you especially feel at home?

Share your answer with one another. And you know the drill. Look around. If you see someone who happens to be sitting by themselves, invite them to play along. And, if you came by yourself, feel free to insinuate yourself, as I always say about Amanda. Just turn to someone and say, “Mind if I join you.” Trust me, they’ll be more than happy to have you. 

But that better not happen! At the gym I go to, the one Corey owns, whenever someone visits, the trainer asks the visitor who greeted them. And anyone who didn’t greet them has to do ten pushups! Don’t make me implement that here!

But, of course, it goes without saying that you don’t have to play, either. You can just think of an answer for yourself. And if someone invites you to join them, you can pass. Just smile and say, “No thanks, I’m not feeling up for it today.” That’s fine, too. 

Sound good? Alright. Enough stalling. Let’s play. What’s one place where you especially feel at home? Go ahead and share your answers.

…Let’s bring it in. Thank you for playing along. You’re good sports. I can always count on you.

How was it? Was it easy to come up with an answer? *Nod your head if it was easy. Ok. And *shake your head if it wasn’t so easy for you.

Alright. I’ve got another question. What do you think it is about that place or thing that feels so much like home? Start thinking. I’m not going to dally as much as I did for the first question. 

I think the moment I told you about sticks out so clearly to me because it was part of my Christmas break. Christmas was over and I had some quieter time to recover and reflect. Plus, I was just starting to read Dostoevsky, and I had no idea how much of an impact spending so much time with him was going to have on me. 

But what about you? What do you think it is about that place or thing that feels so much like home? Go ahead and share what you come up with with each other. Again, of course, that’s only if you want to! What do you think it is about that place or thing that feels so much like home?

Let’s bring it in. Thank you for playing along. How was that? Was it easier or harder than just coming up with the place or thing? *Nod your head if it was easier. Ok. And *shake your head if it was more difficult. Gotcha. 

It’s curious. Isn’t it? On the one hand, we all know what it feels like to feel at home. But, on the other hand, it’s not like we can just order up that feeling on demand.

Why, sometimes, the harder you try to make yourself feel at home, the further you get from it! What’s more, that down home feeling is often hardest to come by when you can use it most. Isn’t it? There seems to be something to that old saying: home is where your heart is. But the trouble is, our hearts can be fickle. Can’t they?

…I’m not the only one to say this, either. St. Augustine, in his Confessions, begins with this observation: Our hearts are restless. Our hearts are restless until they rest in God. 

Confessions is probably the first ever autobiography written in Western literature. And in it, Augustine tells, in painstaking detail, the long story of all the starts and stops in his conversion. Interestingly, the book is over 400 pages, and he was only in his early 40s when he wrote it! But the point I’m trying to make is that right at the beginning, Augustine lays down the premise: All along, he was searching for God. And he was restless until he came home to God. 

But then again, isn’t that a bit of an odd thing to say? Isn’t God everywhere? That’s what it means to say God is omnipresent. Is it not? 

In fact, right after saying that the human heart is made by God to rest in God, Augustine reflects on what a strange thing it is that we creatures can even be anything else than what we were created! I reviewed what Augustine had to say on this matter, and he doesn’t really land on a conclusion. Ultimately, he just says we’re made to rest in God. And somehow, in the act of calling on God itself, we embark on that lifelong journey back to this God who is everywhere and embraces all things.

This, by the way, is the pig in the poke the first hearers of today’s passage found themselves wrestling with, too. The author of First Peter is writing to recent converts. But, while they may be new to the faith, they’re not so dewy-eyed that they’re still in that honeymoon phase. Rather, they’re coming into that stage where they have to reckon with the life changes their transformation has wrought.

…Now, on the one hand, this can be difficult for us cradle Christians to relate to. Can’t it? We’ve always been Christian. We have no concept of what life was like before coming to the faith. But, on the other hand, we can relate. None of us walk such a cleared path that our familiar old life hasn’t abruptly become strange. 

This can happen in any number of ways, too. It can happen when the rug is pulled out from underneath you, and suddenly everything is different. And it can happen quietly. It can happen on any ol’ day when you take a look in the mirror and wonder who that person looking back at you is. 

The strange thing about life is that it is so regularly strange. And today’s Scripture doesn’t resolve this uncanny feature of life, either. No, on the contrary, today’s passage exacerbates it! Today’s passage encourages you to acknowledge your unsettling sense of displacement. 

Welcome to Christianity! That’s not what all those feel-good messages out there tell you. Is it? But you should know it is a long and hallowed aspect of the Christian faith. 

It’s what St. John of the Cross called the dark knight of the soul. And he said you don’t know the first thing about faith until you’ve lived through that painful experience of taking that next step without knowing there will be solid ground under your feet. It’s what Martin Luther called the Theology of the Cross. And he said it is the theology that separates real Christians from imaginary ones. More recently, it’s what one the most prominent Christian ethicists in North America, Stanley Hauerwas, said, too. Christianity is just learning to live lives that are out of control. Christianity is just learning to live lives that are out of control.

How’s that for provocative? I can’t help but wonder what y’all make of this, too. I’ve been helping with the Iowa Preachers’ Project, and last week I called references. One gentleman said their pastor opens the sermon for feedback. Now, I know you haven’t been prepped, but I’m curious about your take. Do you have any thoughts? Does this ring true?

…Personally, I think it does. And I’ve always been a Christian. Yes, there was that time during college when I tried to deny it. But even when I said I was an atheist, deep down, I could tell I was just fighting reality. Nevertheless, I can still feel a pull toward that vacuity. 

Plus, we live in a world that is constantly trying to convert us! Don’t we? Ads are nothing more than materialist evangelism. And while we might come to church once a week, we are constantly bombarded with advertisers’ sermons that the good life is nothing more than just being a consummate consumer.

And ads are just the obvious example! Aren’t they? There’s no shortage of voices out there that want to win us over to their side. The fact is, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been a Christian. It’s always been hard to stay one. 

And that’s really the struggle the new Christians in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia face. But you’ll notice they’re not instructed to overcome the tension. No, on the contrary, they’re told to lean into it! They’re told to embrace their exile.

But they’re not told to embrace their exile because that’s just the way life is. Oh, sure, there’s a bit of truth to that. But it’s not the whole truth. Anyone burnt out by this weary ol’ world can tell you that much. 

No, what today’s passage has to say is that when you embrace exile, you simultaneously find yourself embraced by the one who leads you home! That’s how the old hymn goes. Isn’t it? “I once was lost but now am found.”

This is a depth of faith that matches the depths of existence. When Christ cried out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” he charged all the desolations of life with his sacred, albeit cross-shaped, presence.

What this means is there is now nowhere you can go where the one who beckons you home won’t go to get you and take you to himself. What’s more, the more you know you’re lost, the closer you are to Christ! As Luther said, the one who feels most damned is closest to salvation. God is far-sighted that way! The further you feel from God, the better God sees you. 

…I’ll admit, this seems bleak. But the truth is this is so much better than all those easy lies out there. Yes, we’re told we can adjust ourselves to the way things are. But we’re not made for that! No one ever feels totally at home all the time. 

Plus, when you ditch the illusions, you’re free to take stock of life as it really is! And the truth is, a big part of our discomfort is all those ways we tie ourselves up in pretzels trying to fit in. Isn’t it? In Christ, you can finally stop pretending! In Christ, you can live in this world as it actually is! 

As we say, true spirituality is life in reality! True spirituality isn’t the beautiful dream that we can ascend to heaven. No, true spirituality is discovering Christ has left paradise to meet you in this rough and tumble world as it actually is! True spirituality is calling on God when you don’t feel especially spiritual! And that’s something only someone with a God who meets them in real life can do!

But that’s not all! This also means that now, anywhere you find yourself is prime real estate for Christ to find you! You don’t have to make something like home happen anymore! No, now, Christ comes to find you! And wherever Christ meets you is where you can take your rest in him!

Home is where the heart is! But it’s not our fickle hearts! Is it? No, it’s Christ’s sacred heart! Home is any place you rest in Christ. And on account of his undying love for you, that is now anywhere you lay your head!

I bet that’s what’s behind that sense of home you identified at the beginning of this sermon. Isn’t it? Or am I just grasping at straws here? Although, I don’t think I am. 

Speaking for myself, it wasn’t that I didn’t have to work. And it wasn’t that I was alone, either. No, it was that I wasn’t alone! It was that, although I wasn’t doing anything, God was! And ultimately, it was that I could find shelter in that abiding presence of God, come what may. 

…And so can you! So can you. That’s all this meal is! This meal of Christ’s body and blood given and shed for you is where Christ meets you with whatever you dragged through those church doors with you!

This table isn’t reserved for the fictional holier-than-thous who have transcended life. No, communion is for real people who really find themselves laid low by the world. That’s what the passage that inspired our window is all about! Jesus said, “Come to me all you who are weary and carrying heavy loads, and I will give you rest.”

At this meal, where Jesus presides, as our window placement so wonderfully depicts, you can rest assured Christ meets you in the thick of life. And at this meal, you can rest assured Christ hasn't waited for you to climb your way to him, either! No, at this meal, Christ leaves heaven to come and set the table of his feast of salvation before you! As the voice from the heavenly throne room in Revelation bellows, “See, the home of God is among mortals. HE will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them.”

This is the promise that brings you home to God today! And it brings you home wherever you may be, too! And so, as such, we’re going to sing that old homecoming anthem. Our Hymn of the Day is hymn number 779, Amazing Grace, How Sweet the Sound. Hymn 779. 

Brought home by this Amazing Grace, let’s lift our voices as the Holy Spirit takes us there! Amazing Grace, How Sweet the Sound, hymn number 779. Let’s sing!