conjectural navel gazing; jesus in lint form

Sermon: Community Church of Wilmette

September 17, 2006

 

 

Good morning and welcome to the second of three sermons in a series.  Brothers and sisters, the work of tending a garden is never really over.  Why should a sermon about it have a true end?

 

Last week was incredible.  The Rally Day service was great.  I am glad to see that we still have some flowers in our garden.  And I want to thank you all for your ministry to me on Sunday evening.  Pastor Carol gave us good reason to tend the garden, I think.   I am still a little goose-pimply about the whole thing.  Thank you all.

 

***

 

Friday night Trish and I went to see a production of Shakespeare’s The Tempest at the Actor’s Gym in Evanston.  I’ll admit that I have a bias whenever I encounter my wife’s work.  So, I hope you will all bear with me. 

 

Trish served as the dramaturge for this production.  Essentially she helps the director’s vision and the play come together in a way that is harmonious for both.  And, on this occasion, she had her work cut out for her.  This was to be a magical Tempest…one fraught with slight of hand and the circus arts – tumbling, clowns, trapeze, and high rope acts.  And it was a wondrous thing to behold.  Everyone should go.  Thus sayeth your pastor!

 

I have to confess that before Friday night, I knew almost nothing about The Tempest except for this vague recollection of Molly Ringwald stranded on an island in some movie.  And though I only know slightly more than I did, it seems to me that the whole work is about wrestling with illusion and embracing disillusionment

 

Prospero is a conjurer…an illusionist.  His life is the product of betrayal and bitterness.  And in this scene that I want to share with you he is slowly beginning to see this for himself.  He has thought himself in control, the master of all he sees, but it is slowly coming apart at the seams.  He will soon leave the island…his exile is coming to an end.  His daughter Miranda is going to marry Ferdinand, the son of his enemy…and these are his words at the end of the wedding feast. - Prospero  Act 4 Scene 1, The Tempest

 

You do look, my son, in a mov-ed sort,

As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir.

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,

As I foretold you, were all spirits and

Are melted into air, into thin air:

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff

As dreams are made on, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep.

 

This moment in the play enthralled me.  We see the beginnings of Prospero’s world coming apart as his magic does.  Prospero gives us this moment to peer into his soul.  And in the end we have some of Shakespeare’s more memorable verse:

…We are such stuff

As dreams are made on, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep.

 

Prospero is wrestling with demons.  He sees his path before him and knows that things are coming to an end.  This is the end of a time of illusion.  And as illusion must come to an end, so too must some part of whom we are.  Prospero is struggling with literal disillusionment in Shakespeare’s work.  In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus too struggles with the end of illusions. 

 

“The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak,” says Jesus. 

 

We heard the scripture read.  This is the beginning of the end of Jesus’ ministry with his friends.  They have celebrated the Passover in the Upper Room together.  Jesus has proclaimed his fate and it is unclear if his disciples truly understand the gravity of the situation.

 

Then he said to them, ‘I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.’ And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed…

 

Of course, we know how this goes.  The disciples all sleep.  It’s late.  They have had a big day just trying to keep up with Jesus.  And now it comes down to one of Jesus’ darker moments and they cannot support their friend.

 

‘My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.’ Then he came to the disciples and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, ‘So, could you not stay awake with me one hour? Stay awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.’

 

This morning we find ourselves with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.  And it seems to be a different kind of garden from last week’s celebration.  I don’t know how you all encounter this story.  But I always come to it with a mixed vision.  I know the story.  I know that this is where Jesus is betrayed by Judas and the rest of the disciples.  And yet there is something beautiful at work here. 

        

This is the beginning of the end. 

         Finally, finally the truth of Jesus’ ministry is being revealed

                  to all of us. 

 

The euphoric illusion of a majestic messiah is being lifted.  Rome will not be ousted.  Israel will not govern itself.  This is the beginning of the end in so many ways.  But that disillusionment is a great gift for it reveals the saving work of God. 

 

“The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

 

Perhaps Jesus is speaking about himself.  Perhaps he is speaking about the disciples.  I’m not entirely certain it matters which.  In either case, he puts his finger on a core truth about being human.  We are limited.  We want so much.  We dream so much.  We want to stay up forever and be there for our friends and to do the right thing and yet…and yet.  Life can be one illusion after another.  We are overcome with illusion.

 

One of my favorite poets and lyricists is Dennis DeYoung from the rock group Styx.  You may remember them.  They received a lot of attention when Tipper Gore was on the warpath twenty years ago.  He’s a Chicago native…and though the band has not had popular success in almost 15 years, I think his words work.  This is from The Grand Illusion.

 

But don’t be fooled by the radio

The tv or the magazines

They show you photographs of how your life should be

But they’re just someone else’s fantasy

So if you think your life is complete confusion

Because you never win the game

Just remember that it’s a grand illusion

And deep inside were all the same.

Were all the same...

 

America spells competition;

     join us in our blind ambition.

Get yourself a brand new motor car!

Someday soon well stop to ponder

     what on earth’s this spell were under

We made the grade and still we wonder

     who the [heck] we are.

 

Okay, I’ll admit that Dennis is no Shakespeare.  But he is trying to grapple with the same thing.  So much of the life we create for ourselves is illusory.  So many of the things we invest in and give our time to can, in the end, prove to be an illusion. 

         On one level or another,

                  We are struggling along with Dennis.

         On one level or another,

                  We are wrestling along with Prospero.

 

We can see this at work as governments invent policy.

We can see this at work in the words of a Pope and the angry response.

Sports heroes falter.

Companies go bankrupt.

 

We suffer under the weight of illusion.

 

And it is Jesus who spells it out for us…and in the end will rise up and conquer illusion through the power of his resurrection.  

 

This is the kind of Garden in which God resides.  It is not like our carefully crafted gardens at home.  God is not busy pulling up weeds and trying to decide if he wants azaleas or begonias in the garden.  It is even possible that God is not even on the lookout for dandelions and potato vines.   The wheat and the tares, says the parable, grow up alongside one another in this Garden.  This garden is not what we would call perfect or pristine.  It is not particularly manicured.  God does not saddle us with such illusions.  Instead he tells us the truth about ourselves.  This is a wild garden.

 

“The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” 

 

We are in the midst of need and strength.  It is not that the spirit is preferred and the flesh is to be denied.  This is not a dualistic proverb.  What Matthew is telling us through the words of Christ is that both come up with one another.  It is human to struggle with this.  It is a single nature…the human and divine within our hearts, our lives, our families and our communites. 

 

Jesus sees it clearly.  And Jesus will go to the cross to save it.  This is our judgment.  This is how God judges the tares among the wheat.  God does not ask us to judge which is which.  We cannot.  Even Dennis DeYoung understands that we are too burdened with illusion to be able to do that task well.  God, by Jesus’ example, asks us to welcome weakness, our own and one another’s.  We practice forgiveness.  We receive it.  We offer it.  And the world will say that it is weakness to do so.  But in Christ, such weakness is blessed.  It is the fruit of Gethsemane’s garden.  If we let go of illusion, this is the kind of garden in which we will find ourselves. 

 

We find salvation here through the grace of forgiveness

          in the midst of common weakness.

And it is God’s strength,

          God’s ability to sift through the illusions of life

                  that in the end saves us.

 

At the end of The Tempest, A Magical Circus, Prospero stands alone on stage.  The woman playing the part of Prospero in this production seems to step out of character a little.  She seems to be more herself and less Prospero.  It was one of the few times that I found myself looking past that particular illusion.  It is ironic that this is also when Shakespeare’s Prospero is most himself.  Prospero stands before us redeemed.  He has forgiven those who had sent him to die.  He has celebrated the marriage of his daughter to the child of his enemy.  He no longer embraces bitterness and tyranny.  He has set the spirits free. 

         His magic has come to an end.

                   And in his weakness he is healed.

 

Prospero addresses the audience.

 

Now my charms are all o'erthrown,

And what strength I have's mine own,

Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,

I must be here confined by you,

Or sent to Naples. Let me not,

Since I have my dukedom got

And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell

In this bare island by your spell;

But release me from my bands

With the help of your good hands:

Gentle breath of yours my sails

Must fill, or else my project fails,

Which was to please. Now I want

Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,

And my ending is despair,

Unless I be relieved by prayer,

Which pierces so that it assaults

Mercy itself and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardon'd be,

Let your indulgence set me free.

- Prospero, Epilogue, The Tempest

 

Brothers and sisters, let us stand with one another in our weakness.  Let us together find salvation in this weedy garden.  Uphold one another in prayer.  Find strength in disillusionment.  For in disillusionment we find our true selves and God’s own redemption.

 

Will you please pray with me?

 

Source of Life, Maker and Author of all that is Good, call us into your embrace once again. Pry us away from life's distractions and connect us spirit to Spirit in our ongoing conversation with you. Help us to be still for a time and feel the holiness that is all around us. Guide us to a depth of living that draws us toward the Things that Matter without fear or hesitation.

 

You know us, God. Every part of us. And yet you love us fiercely and passionately. This Love is almost incomprehensible. In this life, we know we will only catch a glimpse of the depth and breadth of your Grace -- but for even that glimpse we are thankful.

 

Bless us, we pray. Rest your peace, your power and your strength upon those who have need today, and every day. This we pray in the name of the One who came to reveal your Grace, Jesus Christ.

 

Amen.