Monday, July 1, 2019

Pick It Up and Move
By Griff Martin
A Sermon on 2 Kings 2:1-12, 6-14 and Luke 9:51-62
For the Third Sunday Following Pentecost
June 30, 2019
To the Beloveds of First Austin: a baptist community of faith
(On the Calling of a New Music Minister)

Incarnate and Resurrected God, we ask that you once again take the Word and transform it into a living and breathing new reality we can all together experience. Make us aware of your presence here in this space and in these words God, for if we are present to you then nothing else will matter, but if we are not present to you then nothing else will matter. In the name of the Creator, the Christ and the Comforter. Amen.

Let me be honest – neither of these texts are the ones I would choose to preach this day: this day we celebrate the call of a new Minister of Music and Arts, this day I celebrate my birthday and begin the last year in this third decade of my living… And they were not the texts I would have chosen for my “in view of a call” Sunday almost 3 years ago to the day. I might have chosen a text about stability, something a bit more comforting and assuring, less challenging and certainly less bold about change. But these texts keep choosing me and choosing us, and as such, we have to listen, even though they are hard to hear. But nonetheless, here we are and here they are…So, we listen. 

Elijah and Elisha… Elton and Bernie… trust me, here.

They are two of our best, having created together songs that belong to the soundtrack of many of our lives in this very room, this very morning. The music of Elton John and Bernie Taupin; the brilliance of these two is amazing. If you need evidence, see the new film Rocketman, or simply go home and tell Alexa, “Alexa, play Elton John,” and listen to hit after hit after hit: “Crocodile Rock,” “Candle in the Wind,” “Bennie and the Jets,” “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,” “Mona Lisa and Madhatters” (and that is just the first decade of their storied career).

How do they do it? What is the secret to their success?  In a recent New York Times interview, Bernie Taupin simply said this: “I think one of the keys that has driven us all these years, it’s the fact that we never look back.”

Which I want to say sounds crazy. After all, aren’t those who don’t learn from history the ones who are doomed to repeat it? But I can’t write Bernie off that quickly because his words sound just like the words of Jesus this morning in our Gospel passage from Luke: “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the Kingdom of God.” Which sounds a lot like another text from earlier in the book, this really bizarre Old Testament story (which itself sounds like another story, but we only have so much time today).

Elijah, our Old Testament hero, the He-Man of the Prophets, our Prophetic Action Figure. This man who has spoken very bold truths to power and has caught hell for it, the one who has risked confrontation with powers of the day to stand up for what was right, this one who has overcome his own self-doubt, this one who has heard the voice of God, been fed by ravens, rained down fire. He’s quite a character. Even today we are so drawn to him and we only get to read about him, so imagine being in his very presence. It’s no wonder that he draws a crowd; that folks want to be around him. They flock to him and they follow him; it’s his charisma, charm, courage and character (all important elements in finding the right person to lead people, trust me. Trust me and 9 other folks who have been looking for this exact combination which culminates today in the calling of Ross, largely based on his charisma, charm, courage and character. We follow folks like that; we want them to lead us).

Thus, when and where our story picks up this morning, Elijah and Elisha are traveling and there is a company of 50 men following them – which is probably bigger because I imagine there were some women and children who also wanted to be around this man. (Because Ross, we want to follow folks with these traits. We are eager for your charisma, charm, courage and character to call and journey us to more. We are trusting you to do it). 

And as they are journeying, they come upon the Jordan River. Elijah doing what Elijah does, he does not look for the easiest path to cross or a fallen tree they can leverage to get across dry. No, he takes his mantle, rolls it up and hits the river, and the river parts, just like it did for Moses and the Israelites in the Exodus. And this is the thing about Elijah: this miracle does not even cause a pause in the text. Of course, at this point in his story, we should assume that he can part the very waters and walk across on dry land. 

Elisha knows something about this moment feels different. It’s in the air and he can feel it on his skin; it’s a mystical knowing that the something is happening. And whatever it is, it makes him so bold that he asks for double of Elijah’s spirit. Which, Elijah is wise enough to not promise because the Spirit of God is not under our control. And the minute we think She is, we are in for a really tough lesson. She might be a gentle breeze at times, but she can also be hurricane force winds.

And they keep walking and talking, and suddenly a chariot of fire and horses of fire are there and Elijah is gone – vanished. Elijah is so connected to God that he is subsumed by God, disappears right into God, or as the text reads, “Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven.” Except for his mantle, which is laying on the ground like a pair of socks that my kids have discarded on their way to the couch after a long day (“no longer need these”).

Elisha picks up the mantle; this is a piece of clothing he knows well. It’s the same mantle that just a few years earlier Elijah had suddenly thrown over him. As in, one day he was out plowing his field and there were 12 oxen in front of him and all was normal, until suddenly there was a mantle being thrown over him – a new calling, a new path, a new way forward. He then asks if he can tell his parents goodbye, but time is limited; the calling is now. No time to look back. So, he follows onto a new path, a new way forward and he has been following Elijah wearing this mantle for some time, and now it’s time for him to wear it.

So, he picks up the mantle, and in my mind, he takes it straight to his nose to smell it because smell is the most reliable sense we have. He smells the smoke from the day Elijah called down fire; he smells the bread Elijah was fed in the desert; he smells the Jordan river; he smells all the hard work and sweat Elijah has put into his calling. 

And he pauses to say thank you, but the words can’t get out of his lips, so he just mouths it because he knows Elijah is now in a place where words aren’t the only language; love is communication in that place. And then he hears the voice of Elijah, who was always a bit gruff and said whatever was on his mind (prophets are not known for their Hallmark card greetings), “Okay, I did not do all that work for you to just stand there being sentimental… pick it up and get moving.”

Then he takes the mantle, takes a deep breath, strikes the river once again, and then takes the first brave step. And once again, the river parts to make way for the new way. Elijah had his moment to lead; a new day has begun. 

And now fast-forward to the Gospels. I think this is the moment Jesus is thinking of in this Gospel passage when he utters the words about letting the dead bury the dead and not looking back. At the very least, it’s certainly the moment Luke is thinking of. Look at all he has given us to make sure that we notice this: the oxen, a request to tell parents goodbye…we are supposed to see the story in light of Elijah and Elisha. We are supposed to hear the words, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” And with that line, we see flashbacks of Elisha dropping his plow and following; we see Elisha picking up the mantle and striking the river; we see the disciples dropping their nets and following, and we see us today picking up the mantles that are all around us and going forward to a new day. 

No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the Kingdom of God.

And I want to be very clear that this does not mean that we are called to forget the past. The truth is, we can’t forget the past even if we want to; it’s written in our very DNA and we carry it with us in our very being. It’s what got us here today and it’s what made us who we are this day. Our history is our shared story and it has carried us exactly where it was meant to carry us. Our shared story as First Austin is the courage and faith that we can take the next step because of every step that was taken before us; we carry it with us. Hear the echo of one of the great lines from one of our best modern musicals, Spring Awakening: “Those you’ve known and lost still walk beside you. All alone, their song still seems to find you. They call you, as if you knew their longing.”

We carry our past with us because it has formed us; but we don’t look back at it with longing eyes, wishing for a time machine and paralyzed by its loss. The simple truth: the past has already served its purpose and that is no longer. It is time for a new day, and if the past did its job right, it prepared us for this day. We don’t have to look back in longing, but instead move forward with faith and hope. 

First Austin, we are blessed with a past that is so incredible, a story that has formed us to be the exact church that is needed this exact moment… a church with a strong calling of justice, a rich history of worship and community, a brilliant location, a calling of all people and faith and arts and social justice all summed up in our calling of Love. There are men and women too numerous to name who have called us to do great and holy work and have created us into the church we are today. We see their fingerprints all over the place and their mantles cover the ground upon which we walk, the holy ground of 901 Trinity, and we need to stop and say ‘thank you,’ and then hear their response in return: “Okay, I did not do all that work for you to just stand there… pick it up and get moving.”

And so now this day, we stand with a mantle in front of us and a river right ahead, and the question is being asked once again, will we pick it up and take another step?

And I am not going to lie to you about the river in front of us today; it’s a big scary river. It’s the fact that the church as an institution is either dying or changing; there are no other options there. It’s the fact that the All People we welcome and include here are not being loved and treated justly out there. It’s the injustices we see each day on the front of the paper that make our hearts break open; or maybe it’s better to say, by now they are so broken we are just bleeding out. It’s change at such a rapid rate we can’t keep up; as if a whole new world is being born around us and every institution suddenly is changing so fast that it makes us scared. It’s the fact we look around this space and there is so much new. It’s the fact that every time our phones buzz with another new alert or text, we half expect that the world might be ending. 

And we stand at that river. Our calling today is to pick the mantle up and go forward. Looking at the big scary river in front of us, knowing that once again God is going to do what God does best: making a way where it looks like there is no way, and in doing that will probably do so in ways beyond what we can see and dream of and will probably mess with all our routines and practices, because that is how God does things. Which might be why picking up the mantle is so scary in the first place.

But that is God’s way. And our job is not to teach God a new way, but instead just to keep up with God, the God who is always doing a new thing, always making all things new. A God who is calling us to get moving and reminding us you don’t get where you are going by getting lost in the rear-view mirror. A God who created a world that was set in motion and time in a very specific way; a way where there is no going back, so the good news is you are more than free to move ahead. A God who is just waiting to get started on the next big project and looking for a community of people who want to create with the Creator.

Composter Giacomo Puccini wrote many famous operas and in 1922 he was working on his opera Turandot, which is his most famous opera. While working on it, he discovered he had an aggressive form of cancer and he told his students, “If I don’t get to finish Turandot, I want you to finish it for me.” He died without finishing the opera and his students studied what he had written and his past works, and they knew how to finish it like he desired. It was performed for the first time in 1926 with his favorite student Arturo Toscanini directing. 

At one point in the opera, tears began to fall down Arturo’s cheeks so hard that he finally stopped the opera and turned to the audience and simply said, “Thus far the Master wrote, and then he died.” He paused and then said, “but his disciples have finished his work.”

First Austin, it is our time to pick up the mantle and finish the work. Our balcony people are cheering us on to finish what they started and future generations are counting on us doing the work they will complete. 

I think one of the best pictures of church I have ever seen is a picture of an actual church (and sadly, it’s not often enough we can say the best picture of church is an actual church). This cathedral is the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. The construction began in 1882 and is set to be completed in 2026. From a purely architectural standpoint, this cathedral is a work of art; its beauty is brilliant. But beyond that, it’s the fact that for a century, folks have given their finances and their time and their talents to a project that they were never going to see finished but that they believed in so deeply. That is church.

And today is our day to believe so deeply that we give ourselves to a project and passion that we may never get to see finished, but we will be privileged to be part of.

And for that, we pick up the mantle and head straight to the fields to get to work. Because First Austin, the Master has written so far, and now it’s time for the disciples to finish the work.

So, pick up the mantle and get moving. 

Amen and Amen. 

*artwork: Elijah, by John August Swanson, johnaugustswanson.com

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