“Overflowing Christianity” Text: Amos 5:24
Elpis Christian Church
May 31, 2009
When I was a kid, I hated playing the piano. In fact, to be more accurate, I hated playing the organ. Much to my mother’s pleasure – and much to my dismay – I grew up in a home where we had a big, old Hammond organ. It was the kind you might see in a church, or on the stage, backing up a 60’s era rock band. It had – I can’t remember, exactly, - one or two big Leslie speakers which, when at full tilt, made a sort of “wah-wah” sound. Technically, that’s called vibrato. And my mom LOVED it. I mean, she really loved it. I can still recall sitting at that organ, my feet barely reaching the big, long foot pedals, trying to squeak out some awful arrangement of a Beatles hit – “Yesterday” or “Penny Lane” – and my Mom insisting that I not forget to add that vibrato. Can’t you picture it? Here I am - this skinny, little kid with glasses and a crew cut, hammering out “Eleanor Rigby” or “Born Free” – absolutely hating every minute – while his Mom smiles and hums along at his side. And picture that scene being repeated – over and over and over again. What’s worse – I couldn’t even read most of the music. So I just had to fake it. It didn’t matter, though, not as long as I was sure to fire up those Leslie speakers and let the “wah-wahs” fly. Mom was in seventh heaven. And I was in hell. And this particular form of divine torment was exasperated by the fact that my older brother got to play the “real” instrument – the piano – on the other side of the room. He could even read music. There’s no justice.
Then something amazing happened. I grew older. I learned to fake it better. I moved away and left that big old organ behind. And I found I could play piano pretty well – even if I couldn’t read the music. And I started to love it. I fell in love with the music. And Mom didn’t need to force me to practice every day. It became something I was passionate about, something I could rely on when I needed to go deep into my soul and feel something – or express something. It became a huge part of my life. And it still is. What changed? How did the burden become the blessing? Well today I want to offer a theory about that – and apply it to our spiritual lives.
First, let me put things in context. We come today to the last in my sermon series which has explored six great aspects of the Christian walk. Bear with me as I repeat them one more time – we’ve now looked at:
• The CONTEMPLATIVE or PRAYER-FILLED LIFE
• The HOLY or VIRTUOUS LIFE
• The INCARNATIONAL or SACRAMENTAL LIFE
• The CHARISMATIC or SPIRIT-EMPOWERED LIFE
• The EVANGELICAL or WORD-CENTERED LIFE
And today we come to the final one – the SOCIALLY ACTIVE or COMPASSIONATE LIFE.
Or, to put it another way, what I would call “Overflowing Christianity.”
Now, that said, let’s get back to the “keyboard” – literally.
What I learned – the hard way – about becoming a musician – is that most of us have to crawl before we can walk. You have to learn scales and fingering and when to play loudly and when to play softly and – most important of all – how NOT to “pound on the keys” – as my Mom would say. If you have to learn to play the piano in such a way that it becomes not a burden but a blessing; not an exercise in hitting keys but an expression of pure spirit – first you have to learn the difference between a C major and an A minor. And that takes time, and effort, and discipline. Unless you are just some sort of child prodigy – which I of course, was not.
The Christian walk is like that too. Can you love God before you’ve ever heard of Him? Can you appreciate the “height, and depth, and breadth” of what God has to say to you if you never open up your Bible and see what it says? Well, perhaps, at some level you can. I do think there we, as God’s children, have some natural ability to appreciate His universe and His ways. Even the smallest child has some sense of the miraculous and holy. In fact, in some ways, that small child is closer to it that we big old “grown-ups” are. But I am talking here about a full, deep, mature, sacrificial, loving, life of faith.
I think THAT takes a lifetime to develop. And God is very patient with us as it unfolds. Like my Mom, lovingly and patiently listening to all the squeaks and squawks and mistakes at my keyboard of faith – and telling me, all the while, to crank up the vibrato. To feel – to let the music move me – and so enable me to let my song move others. That’s the kind of faith that takes a long time to develop. But God has plenty of time – and is plenty patient. And if we will engage in that journey – full and honestly and courageously – something wonderful will come of it.
One day – we will find that our Christian calling is not a burden but a joy. We will overflow with love and compassion and patience and joy – and all the gifts of the Spirit. We will find a life of compassion is something we don’t just do because we “ought” but because we “love” to do. The keyboard scales and exercises will become pure joy for us – and God will smile.
Let’s use a different analogy. Look at today’s small scripture passage. It speaks of letting justice flow down – overflowing – like fresh, clean, sparkling water from a living stream - instead of just being drawn from some desert wadi – from a tepid, stale pool of leftover water. It’s a powerful image, one that reminds us that our daily walk of faith can become a joyful, celebrative thing. It can refresh others – and refresh us. The way we spend our time, the way we spend our money, the way we worship, the way we love – God, others, ourselves – all this can be living stream of life-giving water. Or, the way we spend our time, the way we spend our money, the way we worship, the way we love – can all be a pond of stale water. Something that keeps us from dying of thirst – but never truly refreshes. The choice is ours.
I think the way we get there – to the living stream – is by daily, prayerfully, taking the time and discipline to develop it. It doesn’t happen naturally. To push the analogy even further – we have to dig the well – dig deep – and then, let the underground spring begin to well up and overflow. Or, we can just sit back – and let whatever little water accumulates do so – and settle for whatever we get.
Whichever image you use – whichever works for you – the analogy of a kid learning to play the organ – or the one of a stagnant pool versus a living stream of water – the point is the same. The Christian life can be boring and tedious and lifeless or it can be vibrant and ever changing and full of life. And we can choose which it will be.
Hannah Whitehall Smith, the author of the classic book, THE CHRISTIAN’S SECRET OF A HAPPY LIFE, has this to say:
“It is altogether the way we look at things, whether we think (the things we do in our life of faith) are crosses or not. And I am ashamed to think that any Christian should ever put on a long face and shed tears over doing a thing for Christ which a worldly person would be only too glad to do for money. “
“What we need in the Christian life is to get believers to WANT to do God’s will as much as other people want do their will. And this is the idea of the Gospel. In describing the new covenant in Hebrews 8:6-13, He says it shall no more be the old covenant made on Sinai – that is, a law given from the outside, controlling man by force, it shall be a law written WITHIN, constraining us by love. . . .This can mean nothing but that we shall LOVE his law; for anything written in our hearts we must love... Nothing could be more effectual than this. How often have we thought, when dealing with our children, ‘Oh, if I could only get inside them, and make them WANT to do just what I want, how easy it would be to manage them then!’ . . . .God’s way of working, therefore, is to get possession of the inside of us, to take the control and management of our will, and to work it for us. Then obedience is easy and a delight and service becomes perfect freedom, until the Christian is forced to explain, ‘This happy service! Who could dream earth had such liberty!”
It all comes down to this. With God’s loving and patient help – all the tedious rules we thought we had to follow become the joyful things we can’t wait to do. The kid who used to hate practicing begins to love playing music. The stagnant pond, from which we used to begrudgingly sip, becomes the cool, refreshing, gushing stream in which we frolic. How does that translate into a life of compassionate love for God and others? It changes from being the life we “must” live – to one we can’t wait to live.
Let the music begin.
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