Pasadena Presbyterian Church
Sermon Text
 

Standing in the Tragic Gap

From Mount Hor they set out by the way to the Red Sea, to go around the land of Edom; but the people became impatient on the way. The people spoke against God and against Moses, "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food." Then the Lord sent poisonous serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, "We have sinned by speaking against the Lord and against you; pray to the Lord to take away the serpents from us." So Moses prayed for the people. And the Lord said to Moses, "Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live." So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live. - Numbers 21:4-9

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. - Psalm 51:1-12

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God." - John 3:14-21

It’s a question often asked when difficult or unjust suffering comes our way: "What did I do to deserve this?" It’s a question pastors often receive in times of deep anguish. I remember one particular man who, when close to death quietly asked me, "What did I do to deserve this? I must have done something really awful, but I can’t remember what it was. I just know it must have been something terrible for God to punish me like this."

My heart ached. He was a good man and a faithful Christian. I responded, quietly, that death comes in many ways, and some of them, like his, are very difficult and the pain lasts longer than we wish, but that none of this is a punishment from God. God isn’t giving you punishment; God is giving you strength to bear this fatal illness, and family to be with you until the end comes. I don’t believe God wants this suffering any more than you do.

But I knew the underlying question about sin and forgiveness was still not answered. So I shared a story about one of the desert fathers from the early centuries of the church.

instructing him at some length, the old man asked him: ‘Tell me, my dear, if your

cloak were torn, would you throw it away?’ ‘Oh, no!’ He replied, ‘I would mend it

and wear it again.’ The old man said to him: ‘Well, if you care for your cloak, will

not God show mercy to his own creature?’" (Yushi Nomur, Desert Wisdom: Sayings

"God loves you," I said, "and would never throw you away, nor make you go through this torment for some sin you can’t even remember." The man squeezed my hand and drifted off to sleep. John 3:17 says, "Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him."

Like the torn cloak, my life and yours are torn by sin. "Sin" is the word Christians use for when we act and think in ways that are contrary to the will of God. Our relationship with God and one another becomes ruptured and broken when we sin. "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and your neighbor as yourself," says Jesus. Love God, love neighbor, love self. Everything contrary to those words is what we mean by that old fashioned word: sin.

We are bombarded these days by sin writ large: greed so massive and pervasive it makes our heads spin; corruption in government at all levels; Israeli soldiers murdering women and children in Gaza as one soldier said, "Just because we could"; drug wars in Mexico; police officers shot in Oakland; starvation in Madagascar; deserts expanding and ice caps melting because of our pollution. When Christians proclaim that we need to be saved, and people ask us, "Saved from what?" The answer is, "Saved from ourselves."

Many of our sins are writ small, and repair is moderately easy. We speak harshly to our mate or to a friend. So we ask forgiveness and begin again. We know someone needs our help and, although we have both the time and resources to respond, we choose not to. Then our conscience nudges and we reach out, praying forgiveness for our selfishness.

Some of our sins are larger and need greater action for remedy:

-we fritter our money away while people are hungry and homeless;

-we waste our time while children need tutors;

-we nurse grudges against individuals, groups, and even nations;

-we squander earth’s resources for our selfish convenience;

-we neglect our covenants with spouse or partner, stop working at the relationship,

or let our attention and affection wander elsewhere.

Each of these sins, small and large, is not only against the person we have wronged or the creation we have injured. Each of these sins is ultimately against God, for this is God’s world, and there is something of God in each person and creature God has made. Even those who bristle at the notion of confession have, in the words of the Apostle Paul, "sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." In the season of Lent, as we focus on Jesus’ being crucified because of human sin, we are challenged to reflect on the ways we still sin, even all these centuries after his death.

There are always sins we don’t want to acknowledge in our life. It can be unpleasant and downright challenging to accept the impact of our actions. We may try everything in our power to defend our ourselves, blame the other person or the circumstances of our life, blame our parents or our boss, pretend we have no responsibility, claim that we are powerless to do anything different. But here in this sacred space we name the truth, in the pages of scripture we read the truth, in the stillness of our hearts, God speaks the truth: all of us have sinned and fallen short of what God creates us and wants us to be. This is why we are so deeply grateful for the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

(Psalm 51)

Our cloaks are torn. Our lives are torn and our relationships damaged, the earth is growing frayed and our world is ragged this day because of our human sin, both small and large. In this season of Lent, our Lord’s death demands that we examine both our own sin and God’s love for us.

Parker Palmer calls this "standing in the tragic gap." The tragic gap is "the gap between what is and what could and should be, the gap between the reality of a given situation and an alternative reality we know to be possible because we have experienced it." God has already shown us what is good and faithful, right and true. We have already experienced deep, unwarranted kindness and know what it would be like to give that kindness to others. We have already felt the wholeness of living with integrity, and could live that way again. We have spoken truth to injustice and put our weight on the side of the right. We have enjoyed the beauty of the wilderness and picked up trash along the sidewalk. We have given of ourselves to others and know that it has made a difference for them and us. We have been gentle and humble. We already know God’s side of the gap.

But we also live on the sinful side of the gap: The side where we look after our own interests and count our own pennies in case we won’t have enough. The side where we claim that all Palestinians are terrorists, or all Latinos are lazy, or all Anglos are racist. The side where we bear fall witness against members of the other political party. The side where we spread rumors and gossip, tear people down, denigrate the work of colleagues, or the lives of family members. The side where we neglect to give others the same grace and forgiveness that God has given us.

As Christians, we live with one foot in each world: the world of our brokenness and sin, and the world of God’s wholeness and shalom. We stretch our arms out like Jesus on the cross–on one side is human brokenness and on the other side is God’s wholeness. As we hold the tension between the two, we become the horizontal beam of the cross on which people can walk with increasing faithfulness towards fullness of life and faithfulness in Christ. The beam of the cross on which Christ died, the connection he makes for us between our need and God’s love, between our sin and God’s forgiveness, is the very path we also walk into greater faithfulness. He holds onto us with one hand and God with the other. So do we, as we walk on his crossbeam over the gap.

In the story we read from the Book of Numbers, the people of Israel groused and complained yet again about how hard it was in the wilderness on their trip from Egypt to the Promised Land. They had already complained about not having food, not having water, and the water they had not being sweet enough. In each instance, God took care of their needs. This time, they complained about poisonous snakes, as if God did not care. They lost sight of God’s side of the gap, and held onto their human view of reality. But even then, God took what had been most frightening and turned it to good. What had been a poisonous snake became an instrument of healing.

This is why Jesus refers to the snake that Moses lifted up. Jesus knows that he will be killed by human sinfulness–by people who do not understand his message and see it only as a threat to their way of life. He knows that he will be lifted up on a cross to die. He knows that his life and death will become a means of healing and wholeness for all who believe. He has come into the world to save the world, not to condemn it.

As long as we are alive, we can never be fully perfect and without sin. That’s part of the reason Parker Palmer calls this life "the tragic gap." Each step of faithfulness we take shows us more steps down the path of righteousness. Each movement forward shows us we have much farther to go. It’s a wonderful journey, one of courage and renewal. It is also a journey of risk and great sacrifice, where we lose our life and discover that we have found it. When we look back, it’s a journey we wouldn’t have wanted to miss. It’s a journey in the gap between what is and what could and should be. It’s the life of faithful Christian living.

We sin... we ask for and receive forgiveness...we try to sin less, trying each day to grow more and more into the fullness of Christ. Always, in this endless pattern of sin and forgiveness, justification and sanctification, we pray to God,

and sustain in me a willing spirit. (Psalm 51)

God does not throw us away, but washes the dirt off our soul and mends the torn places of our life. We lift up the cross and keep walking across its beam because we dare to trust that God does not throw us away. We dare to trust that "...while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. While we were yet sinners, Christ was raised for us." And while we are still sinners, Christ prays for us. Christ died because of our sin, and Christ was raised so that we would know God reaches across the chasm of our sin with eternal love and victory over evil. Thanks be to God. Amen.