Sermon 602+October 18, 2009

Sermon 602
The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost
October 18, 2009

The Commitment of Our Life.

Peace be to this place, and to all who dwell in it. Amen.

A Complete, Unqualified Commitment.

A dozen years ago, feeling overwhelmed by my responsibilities as a bank president and a parish priest, I called my oldest and best friend in the Episcopal Church, Ken Fields. “I thought I could manage this,” I said to Ken, who was serving as the chaplain at Canterbury Chapel at the University of Alabama. “But I feel like I’m meeting myself coming and going.”

My small bank in Fayette was growing, and St. Michael’s, my small parish, was demanding more and more of my time and energy. Bishop Parsley kept reminding me to honor the Sabbath—to take a day of rest—but I would find myself at the hospital or nursing home on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. Ken said, “Look, Wells. All that God expects of you is a complete, unqualified commitment. That’s all.”

A complete, unqualified commitment—not a man limping along with two opinions about life. Elijah demanded as much of the people of Israel, who were torn between the worship of YHWH and Baal: “How long will you go limping between two different opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.”

Bishop Parsley used to joke at clergy gatherings about my two full-time jobs: “Wells is an experiment to see if you really can serve God and Mammon.” Being a priest was wonderful, I thought, and being a banker was easy. “Go into banking, son,” a former Alabama governor told me way back in 1990. “All it requires is arithmetic and common sense.” I thought we would stay in Fayette forever. Ken was wrong; I could manage the situation. Instead I found myself being pulled more and more into the life of faith, and I came to despise the pursuit of power and the insatiable greed of bankers and the banking industry. And I came to despise myself as one limping along with two opinions, unable to commit fully to either one. Still, I was a good community banker, an officer in the Rotary Club, and the banking business in those days was very good. It’s hard to leave comfort and money, even if they’re slowly squeezing the life out of you.

The story from the First Book of Kings tells us that the People of Israel couldn’t make up their minds either. It’s hard to disagree with King Ahab and the wicked Queen Jezebel; it’s easier just to go along and get along. Elijah decided it was time for decisive action. Elijah confronted Ahab and Jezebel. He demanded a showdown with the prophets of Baal, and on Mount Carmel he defeated the pagan priests in a demonstration of God’s mighty power. Oh, and then “Elijah brought them down to the brook Kishon and slaughtered them there.” All 450 of them. I guess we could call that the “down side” of a complete, unqualified commitment. If you’re faced with that kind of choice in life, make sure you make the right one.

My former boss Bobby Lowder has been in the news again lately. Years ago I was his vice-president for sales and marketing, and his public relations director. When I left Colonial Bancgroup in 1993, shares were trading at $28 and we were acquiring banks in Atlanta. We had weathered many storms—the Eric Ramsey scandal, the Board’s micromanagement of Auburn University, the rise and fall of football coaches—and I left his employ, under my own power and at my own decision. Sixteen years later, Colonial collapsed under the weight of worthless mortgages. The share price fell below nineteen cents before the New York Stock Exchange removed Colonial Bancgroup from its offerings. Commit yourself to the wrong path and you will find yourself lost in the wilderness. Wordsworth said two centuries ago …

The world is too much with us.
Late and soon,
Getting and spending,
We lay waste our powers.

James and John, the sons of thunder, said to Jesus, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” What they wanted was a position of authority and of power—a seat at his right and left hand. What Jesus wanted for them—and from them— was a complete and unqualified commitment. Like a lot of commitments, they had no idea what this one would mean. They had no idea that drinking from his cup would mean sacrifice and death. That would have to come much later, after he had been raised from the dead and ascended into heaven, after the coming of the Holy Spirit, after years of spreading the Gospel to the ends of the earth. All Jesus wanted from them was their hearts, minds, souls, and spirits. All he wanted was everything. That’s all.

The psalmist advised as much, centuries earlier than Jesus of Nazareth:

Trust in the Lord, and do good;
so you will live in the land, and enjoy security.
Take delight in the Lord,
and he will give you the desires of your heart.
Commit your way to the Lord;
trust in him, and he will act.

Commit your way to the Lord. It’s a demand, a requirement, perhaps even a commandment for those who follow the life of faith. As busy, modern Americans, we are typically reluctant to make commitments—to an employer, a service organization, a college, a church, another person, even to God. You know the typical answers: “Not yet. Maybe later. After I graduate. When I’m retired. When I can find the time.” And yet we know the promise of God, that if we will but commit our way, he will give us the desires of our heart. He will act in our lives. He will change our circumstances. He will deliver us out of the pit, whatever that is.

As busy people in the modern world, we frequently protect ourselves against the dangers of commitment by compartmentalization. We live our lives in pieces and parts—work, exercise, family, recreation, school, church, hobbies, sports, politics—if you take on a new interest, just place it in a new compartment. That way, work and church can have little or nothing to do with each other. Sports and politics don’t have to be shaped by ethics or honesty. And you don’t have to deal with the incongruity and chaos of modern living.

Compartmentalization, however, is not the life of faith. For the Jews, the Shema, the fundamental statement of faith in the sixth chapter of the Book of Deuteronomy, is a complete, unqualified commitment:

Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one.
Love the LORD your God with all your heart
and with all your soul and with all your strength.

There is no compartmentalization in this way of living. Here, life is lived in a full and integrated way. There is no separation, or distinction, or conflict. You love God with all that you are.

For Christians, the commitment is still complete and unqualified. You find it in the Great Commandment …

Jesus said, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Once again, there is no separation, or distinction, or compartmentalization here. We are commanded to love God completely, and to love our neighbor—all of our neighbors—as ourself. What I am asking you this day is to commit your way to the Lord. Strive to live your life free of internal conflict and compartmentalization. Choose the path that is consistent with your faith. Commit yourself to Christ with a willing heart and an eager mind. Give of your time and talent and treasure with a spirit of abundance and hope and love. And trust in God to give you the desires of your heart. Amen.

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