Sermon for the 3 rd Sunday in Lent, March 7, 2010
“ Have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them. For it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret. But all things that are reproved are made manifest by the light: for whatsoever doth make manifest is light. Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light. ”
IN APRIL of 1990, a tin can the size of a school bus was dropped off 353 miles above the Earth's surface. Its mission was to take crystalline clear pictures of the universe without interference from the planet's atmosphere. Nineteen years later, NASA's Hubble Space Telescope has transmitted hundreds of thousands of spectacular images to astronomers back home. Late last August, using improved new equipment, the telescope was aimed four straight days at an empty area in space where no one had ever seen a star or anything else. Tuned to infrared light, beyond the human eye's ability to see, an image slowly formed of the most distant objects in space, literally hundreds of galaxies, pinwheels each comprised of millions of stars, tilting at every angle out in an area of the universe where we had never seen any evidence of stars before.
An exposure of scarcely visible light comes from such a distance that the light must have left those stars a very, very long time ago. That we now see them raises questions about the size of the universe and its true age. This is science – unfettered by philosophies or theologies, politics or economics. If its results are troubling, the fact remains on the screen: there you see the most distance objects ever photographed. Unvarnished truth : take it or, well, deny the evidence right before your eyes.
Some things should be seen. Some things ought to be exposed. Some things cannot remain secret, untold stories, wrongs unpunished, evil unopposed, lies uncorrected, truths overlooked. God is not unjust, and so will reward those whose faith and good works may have gone long unacknowledged. He is also not unjust, as He will declare the evils done by rich, famous and powerful men that had hitherto gone unpunished. The eye of the Hubble telescope is nothing compared to the Eye of the One who sees even our secret thoughts and remembers.
Does that make you nervous? God remembers even your most wicked imaginings. I frankly don't want to view a movie of all my sins. That would be bad enough, and sufficient to reduce me to sobs. More tragic still, I've thought, might be a movie of the world, people, living children, singing, happy, whose lives might have been made so if only I'd lived the life God made me for—and yet, because I was selfish, lazy, cynical, prejudiced, and faithless, these wonderful things could never come to be. I failed to live these things out.
That's a kind of exposure we rather fear than welcome. It's a strong person who asks God to tell him or her, “What's wrong with me? Look at me, search my heart and let me know what you see. Tell me in no uncertain terms what needs to change, where I've made the wrong choice, followed my own fleshly inclinations, given over to sin.” It's a strong and saintly person who, when God responses to such a question, will hear it and remember, sorrow over the evils done in secret, and change. That, my dear friends, is the challenge of Lent. It's what all the discipline is about, the soul searching, the confessions, the yearly remembrance of Christ's Passion, before we can come to Easter's Resurrection.
In Ephesians, St. Paul speaks of the things we used to do before we turned to Christ, admonishing us not to join in such pursuits any more. “For you were once darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord: walk as children of light… declaring what is acceptable unto the Lord. And have no more fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove, expose them. For it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret. But all things that are exposed are disclosed by the light: for whatsoever discloses is light. Thus he says, Awaken you who sleep, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light.” Ephesians 5:8ff
There's much in this statement. Truth be told, not all truth is welcome, nor is it proper to disclose. It is a shame to speak of the things that are done in secret by people given over to ugliness. I know police detectives whose job is to look at films and thousands of photos, closely reviewing evidence of deeds done by criminals against unwilling victims, deeds that would sicken you or me. These are special people who have to watch and discern, to see things only perverted and twisted sick people would ever want to watch, but like angels they look, analyze, and prepare a case. They call these “ body crimes specialists ” and I don't envy their job. “ Property crimes ” are a lot less sordid, and comprise the other half of the Investigations department.
But not all truth is welcome. A famous man's vice is discovered and we see hours of videos of his paramour disclosed to us, as though we have a right to ogle her at the same time as judging him for his indiscretion. A weird irony in the moral failures of golfer Tiger Woods comes to my mind when the networks offer us endless views of the man's various women. I don't think we need to be tempted as he was— to what end ? Some truth ought only to be shared with those who handle justice. The rest of us could spend better time sharing what is good, holy, lovely and really beautiful. Look at the photos from the Hubble. Read the Bible. Offer some prayers. Talk to your loved ones.
Not all truth is welcome, but truth is truth . There is truth about others which we only need to know when it affects us. The difference between people is whether or not they want to know the truth about themselves. If I'm living a lie, do I really want to know it? If I need to change my attitude and treatment of another person, am I willing to see my fault, or simply justify myself and go on?
God assigns some of us to look into the sins of others. Counselors, police officers, judges and priests must see other people more closely than do the rest of us. These folk we agree must look at the truth, need to expose it to the light for judgment, for our sakes, for the guilty as well as for the innocent. C. S. Lewis pointed out that to be punished because we deserve it is to be treated with dignity as humans created in God's image. We tell the criminal he is worthy, if even worthy of life in a cell. If instead we abandon punishment for evil things done, a moral travesty is created, degrading us all. But not all of us need to look closely into the moral failures of everyone else. A society of moral eavesdroppers, a generation of x-ray visionaries, the fantasy of “reality” television viewers challenges the very nature of evil: forgetting that it is wrong even to be interested in it.
Most mystery programs start with a murder. I don't like looking at the fact we need a killing to get us interested in solving a puzzle. Still, I like mysteries, watching the intrepid detective uncover clues, put strands together until he or she sees the only solution, no matter how unlikely the culprit, and calls all the suspects together. Exposure follows, after a lengthy discussion of everyone else's little foibles.
Jesus saw everybody to the core. The woman at the Samaritan well was a prostitute, having many men, being married to none, and she shamefacedly fetched water at midday when no one would be up there. Jesus, however, was there waiting for her and disclosed to her who she was. But He offered her water that would give her eternal life, and showed this foreign woman that He was the Jewish Messiah. Proud at first, the woman gave up her tribal claims and joyously told her entire village about the prophet who knew everything about her. What happened there? A woman who lived in the shadows was finally seen for exactly who she was, sins and all, but was loved as well for who she would become. That we all might have that power of disclosure: not just to see the flaws, but to perceive the diamonds in the rough, the beautifully polished sculpture hidden in the uncut rock. When we find we have a talent to ferret out the evil truths about another, we'd best cultivate the ability our Lord had to see where our friends might also come to if they were loved enough.
Jesus drove a demon of muteness out of someone and heard the complaint of some that he used other demons to perform this trick. He retorted , “If I by Beelzebub cast out devils, by whom do your sons cast them out? therefore shall they be your judges. But if I with the finger of God cast out devils, no doubt the kingdom of God is come upon you.” Luke 11:19-20 How is it, Jesus reasons, that you are such experts in demon possession and deliverance when you and your children know nothing about how to cure such an infestation? Satan doesn't fight Satan. It is God's work, and His kingdom is here. Every time Jesus spoke, light came into that scene, on a mountaintop, in the upper room, by the river, by the lake, in the priest's hall or Pilate's judgment seat. Jesus spoke and light played its brightness on whatever was there. Truth was known and evil objected to the disclosure. The sick, the dying, the lame, the blind and deaf and dumb, and the demon infested ones rejoiced to have the great physician examine them and find them crippled by disease, for then He healed them and set them free. But the proud, the self-righteous, the powerful, the religious poster boys hated the truth searchlight turned in their direction. How dare he?
God's gift of human dignity in His own image may shield us for a time from the rude glare of others' inquisitiveness, as God Himself searches our souls for impediments to our own sanctification. God hides our sins from others, as long as we submit to Him exposing them to us, for our cure. But leave a travesty hidden long enough, and the truth will out. Even a space telescope may not see close up, but exposure comes by degrees, in time, when all the secrets of our hearts will be known. May the greatest secret you have be the love of Christ and of those He gives you to love.
PFH+