Sermon for Epiphany 7, Year B, 2000

Episcopal Church at Princeton

Reading: Psalm 32:1-8; Isaiah 43:18-25; Mark 2:1-12

Have you ever noticed
that there are an awful lot of things
we'd rather not talk about?
Things which we find it easier to deal with
by taking a broom,
lifting the corner of the rug,
and gently sweeping them underneath,
so they can be not seen
and not heard,
and we just pray
that no busybody will come by
to check on our housecleaning
and find that little pile
of sweepings
hidden carefully under the carpet.

Things like sin, and sex, and money, and hell...

We'd rather not talk about these things, not because they don't matter, not
because we don't think about
them, but because they're so difficult, and have so many negative
connotations,
that we often don't quite know what to do with them. But there's a problem
with that.

Because sometimes, you know,
the things we sweep so carefully under the carpet,
behave more like
monsters under the bed,
lurking just beneath our toes
ready to jump out and bite us!
And if you've ever spent any time with children
you'll know
that the only way to deal with those monsters
is to talk about them.
Because it doesn't matter how much you pretend
they don't exist, if you leave them to the world of your imaginings
they only get bigger and scarier and more complicated.

So today I'm going to talk about one of them, which comes up in two of our
readings today and especially
in the Psalm. And that is sin.

Sin is one of the things
we'd rather not talk about, especially in church.
Because, I think,
sin
has got a bad name. Just saying the word
brings images of eighteenth century preachers
thundering hellfire and brimstone
from the pulpit
or early twentieth century prohibitions against drinking, dancing, movies,
and anything else that might count as entertainment.
TV
makes sin
something to joke about,
and religion makes it
something to make us feel guilty.
But I think there's more to it than that.

If I were to ask each of you
the first thing you think of
when I say the word sin,
I wonder what you would say.

Some people would think of the ten commandments - murder, adultery,
stealing...

Others would jump straight to the big name sins - sex, violence and so on.

But in the New Testament
the way sins are described
is a whole lot more subtle than that, a whole lot more ordinary.
Its about the things we do,
or decide not to do,
every day. And they are just as much sins
as the big ones.
Things like greed, and being contentious, and quarreling,
are right up there with the big ones, with adultery and murder.
And also gossiping, and complaining, and being selfishly ambitious, and
lying, and getting angry, and
being envious. In the new Testament, there doesn't seem to be a whole lot
of distinction made between big sins
and little ones. Because when it comes down to it
each one shows just how big
is our failure to love.

That might come
as a bit of a shock to some of you.
Because most of the little things
aren't things which we think much about. They happen
and they may not be real nice,
but we don't think of them
as sins.

But haven't you ever played along in an argument
just to see the other person
get all riled up.
I have,
especially with my younger brother when we were kids.
I think that's
called being contentious.
Or looked at someone else's financial aid package
and griped to yourself about how much they get
even when you think
you really deserve it more.
That has something to do
with envy, and maybe a little bit of greed thrown in too.
Then there's those the times you got together with a couple of friends, and
started the '"did you hear
about so and so? She...'" and then as the person suddenly appeared you
quickly changed the subject.
That
would be gossip.

Obviously I could go on for ever. There's no shortage of examples - though
its usually easier to see
them in other people's lives
than in our own.
Its funny how its so much easier to see them
that way...

But if we're going to be honest, we're all involved in this stuff. Whether
big or small, sin
and sins
are part of our everyday life.
All of us
fail in our loving -
we fail in loving
each other,
we fail in loving
ourselves
and we fail in loving
God.
It's part of what it is
to be human.

Now the purpose of this sermon
is not to send you all on a huge guilt trip - quite the reverse, in fact.
You see one response
is to pretend that sin doesn't exist, to pretend that we are perfect
in every part of our lives, that we never make a mess of our lives or our
relationships or our words.
But of course
its not true. If you're anything like me,
what happens when I do that
is that sooner or later
I start feeling guilty.

Imagine if I said something not very nice about J behind her back - I don't
know why I would, but just
imagine I got caught up in a conversation, and before I could stop it,
something nasty just flew out of my
mouth.
Well, the next time I see her
she waves at me and says hi as usual
and I wave back, and pretend that I'm her best friend
and all the while
I'm beginning to feel just a little guilty.
And it happens again the next time I see her, and then I'm in the U-store
and I see her coming my way,
and by this time I'm feeling so awful
that I duck behind a row of books
just so I won't have to talk to her
and she's still being just as friendly as ever.
And I begin to wake up at night with my stomach all tangled up
and she'd beginning to realize something funny is going on,
and its all a huge mess. A cycle of sin, where we go on hurting each other
more and more and more.
[Now just so you know,
this didn't actually happen - its just invented for this sermon.
J and I are still friends - or at least we were until now!]

The psalm we read today
talks about this sort of mess, the way sin can eat away at your life, eat
away
at your insides
when you just try to hide it away.
'"While I held my tongue, my bones withered away,
because of my groaning all day long.'"

The obvious solution
it seems,
at least to the psalmist
is to deal with it. Acknowledge it, get it out in the open
where it no longer has that horrible power of guilt
clutching at you.

But that's easier said
than done. Its hard
to acknowledge
when we make a mess of things. We're programmed
for success,
programmed
by our parents
and our school systems and the job market
and our social structures - there's a premium
on getting it right. The last thing we're supposed to do
is admit we've made a mess of things.

But in the end we all fail,
fail in keeping those two great commandments,
to love God
with all our heart
and soul and mind and strength
and to love our neighbors
as ourselves.

And admitting we've made a mess of things
can be one of the most important things
we ever do.

Admitting it
can be the first step
for putting things to rights.

Admitting it
gives a chance
for broken relationships
to be healed.

Admitting it
allows us to be honest
with ourselves
and to forgive ourselves
and to begin living again.

And admitting it
gives God a chance
to work in our lives,
to help us grow
into the best we can ever be.

And admitting it
is what we in the church
know as confession.

We confess our sins to God
formally,
week by week,
in the confession in our Eucharist.
And if we choose
we can also
confess them, still to God,
but in the company of a priest.
Either way
we can be absolutely sure
that God hears us
and forgives us,
because God loves us.
And we can begin life again,
knowing
that that sin
has been dealt with.
As the psalm says,
"Happy are they
whose transgressions are forgiven
and whose sin
is put away."

But there's another step as well.
Each week
after the confession,
we greet one another
in the greeting of peace.
And part of the idea behind that
is that we will come to the Eucharist
having dealt with the things
which might have come between us,
that we will come to the Eucharist
having done the really hard thing
of saying to those
who we've sinned against,
that we're sorry.
And that we will come to the Eucharist
having forgiven those
who have sinned against us.
It's hard stuff.

But its what loving God
and loving one another
is all about.

And we don't do it all alone. We do it
in the midst of a community
that loves us
and will keep loving us
no matter what we have done,
and we do it
in the presence of God
who in Christ, in his life and in his death
and in his resurrection
shows us what forgiveness
and love
is all about.

Amen.



Raewynne J. Whiteley
20 February, 2000

Last Revised: 2/23/00
Copyright © 2000 Raewynne J. Whiteley. All rights reserved.
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