Sunday, June 29th, 2003 (first sermon preached as Pastor)
Jerusalem Baptist Church, Emmerton VA
Psalm 117
1 Praise the Lord, all you nations! Extol him, all you peoples! 2 For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord!
He’s protecting her!
The image was unforgettable. It was 1991, and I was watching a news report on the U. S. troop activities among the Kurdish people of northern Iraq, in the aftermath of the gulf war, trying to deal with the mass exodus of hundreds of thousands of refugees into eastern Turkey.
In the background, an army helicopter was lifting off after having delivered a load of supplies. A marine was in the middle foreground, kneeling towards the camera, his arms around a little girl, probably no more than 5 or 6 years old. As the helicopter lifted off, the marine hugged the girl closer to him, wrapped his arms around her, and took his cap off and placed it over her head, protecting her from dust and small pieces of debris being tossed around.
The following Christmas, my sisters, brother and I arranged to all be in Chile together, it being my parents’ last one to spend there before returning to the States for retirement. We were traveling in the southern part of the country, and stopped for a meal at a restaurant in Pucón, a small town on the shores of lake Villarica. As we sat waiting for our meal, our discussion wandered to how we each felt about the war that had been fought earlier that year. Suffice it to say that the opinions around the table ranged from one end of the political spectrum to the other. In recounting the moment captured on videotape that I’d seen, I got so choked up that I was almost unable to complete the thought.
Celebrating the 4th of July has always been a mixed bag for me. Having grown up in the southern hemisphere, July is deep WINTER, not high summer, so there were not many picnics and fireworks displays to attend. There were OBSERVATIONS of the fourth of July, by expatriate citizens as well as Chileans who were friendly towards or admiring of the United States.
The only opportunities I had to attend and enjoy a 4th of July picnic was when we were back here in the states on furlough. That ended up being twice before I came back to the States ‘for good’. Once when I was 7, then 10. What was most memorable – and miserable - for me, was the heat and the humidity of Western Kentucky, rather than anything having to do with commemorating the Declaration of Independence. I’d grown up on the edge of the Atacama desert, the driest desert in the world. My sense of identity during childhood was much more tied up with Chile’s equivalent of George Washington: Bernardo O’Higgins (that’s a good Hispanic name, isn’t it?) in his struggle to win independence from Spain and Arturo Prat and his heroic and fatal boarding of a Peruvian ironclad ship in the War of the Pacific.
The context in which my Chilean patriotism was developing was radically different from that in which my sense of patriotism for the United States would develop several years later. Chile was under a military dictatorship for the last 7 years I lived there. There was no vocal opposition to the regime of Augusto Pinochet, or if there was, they were summarily labeled communists and if not already, exiled or imprisoned. I have no real memory of opposition being voiced even in small groups, until my last two years of high school, and then by only 2 or 3 people in my school. It was simply unheard of.
Coming back to the states, by contrast, presented me with a seeming cacophony of voices from all sides of any given issue. There was no ONLY and ‘official’ – and therefore in my mind correct – position espoused by a fatherly figurehead.
At first, I felt lost amidst the clamor. While I longed for the safety I felt in hearing and accepting a single point of view, in being confronted by thoughtful, intelligent, reasoned opposition I began to develop a sense of respect and appreciation for the free interchange of ideas. I did not always agree with one side or the other, but the manner of discourse was captivating. I’ll admit, CSPAN is not my favorite channel, or one that I will linger on for more than a few minutes, except on rare occasion, but to know that congress is in session, and policy is being hammered out, and compromises are being reached for hopefully the good of the majority of the people, is a powerful thing, especially when you’ve lived in a society that at one point in recent history decided to settle differences with bullets instead of debates.
Even more powerful than that, witnessing a presidential election has proven to be an emotionally moving experience for me. However you feel about the politics involved, the fact that the government of this country is able to peacefully transfer power between parties is still a point of which we as citizens can be justifiably proud.
There are two flags at the front of this sanctuary: The flag of the United States, and the Christian flag. How do you feel about both being present? (Janice answered: Proud!) Does having them both say more about how we as a congregation feel about the separation of Church and State, or freedom of religion? For a long time, I had to struggle with the fact that a national symbol was displayed in a house of worship, where we preach that God loves all people, regardless of nationality. Then I realized that having the flag of the United States in the sanctuary was recognition of the fact that within our identity as Christians, we must also recognize, acknowledge, and celebrate our identity as citizens of this country, with our own national history, culture, and worldview.
It is entirely appropriate to pray for God’s blessings on our country, just as we would for our community and our congregation. It is entirely appropriate to thank God for blessing our nation, just as we would thank God for blessing our community and our congregation. We would, in fact, not be fulfilling our role as intercessors in prayer if we did not do so.
As Christians, we are called to be salt and light. When you add salt or light, both are dispersed into whatever medium they are introduced – be that a dish of food, a darkened room, or a nation.
We must be thankful that we live in a society that values freedom. That in and of itself is cause for praise. Were it not for the experiences of the founders and signers of the declaration of independence with ‘established churches’ in the various colonies and in England, and their foresight in dis-establishing a state church, we would not be who and what we are today, but probably something very much different.
As Baptists, we can be proud of having had some influence in the first amendment being included in the bill of rights. One of the basic tenets of our doctrine is the separation of Church and State. Both the freedom TO practice our faith as well as to be without faith have to be true options and are necessary if we are to allow for a choice to be freely made to follow Christ.
At the same time that we are thankful for that freedom, we must also recognize that our truest, deepest, and most profound freedom is not derived from legal documents, but through the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives. In our own congregation, through news from Sondra and Tiffany Smith, we know of countries where it is illegal to become a follower of Christ, and yet it still happens. The freedom we find in accepting Christ as savior is found regardless of whether we are here in Emmerton or across the world.
In Galatians 5, Paul writes:
13 For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. 14 For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." 15 If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.
In three sentences, we receive from Paul a synopsis of what it means not only to be a member of the body of Christ, but a good citizen as well – of whatever country you live in. Think of it. One preacher has said, if we all followed this command, we wouldn’t need any laws! We wouldn’t need any police, or courts, or jails either!
In 1st Peter, 2:9, we find an even clearer proclamation of what it means to follow Christ:
9 But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.
And now we find ourselves back at the Psalm. What is our response to freedom, to God? What is our response to Christ? God does not coerce. God does not force us. God allows us to choose. God draws us near, in infinite love. And in joyous reply, we respond in praise and worship:
1 Praise the Lord, all you nations! Extol him, all you peoples! 2 For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord!
If you are here this morning and are oppressed, weighed down by the law of sin, and guilt, and shame, your invitation is to come and learn what it feels like to be the citizen of a new Kingdom, free from that burden.
If you are here this morning and are looking for a place where you can continue to exercise the freedom you’ve already found in Christ, your invitation is to join with us in being that salt and light.
If you are here this morning and already know Christ and are already a member of this family of faith, your challenge is to find new ways to spread that light, to be that salt, to be ever more aware of the Holy Spirit’s movement in your life, and to be as responsive to him as possible.
Let’s pray.
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