“Make it Plain”

John 10:22-30

A Sermon preached by the Rev. Douglas M. Donley

May 2, 2004

University Baptist Church

Minneapolis, MN

 

 

            One of the highlights of the week for me is when I get to go into the upper room and engage in some Sacred Harp Singing.  It’s part hymnody, part recreation, part community, part prayer, part primal screaming and almost always a bit of a mystical experience.  We’re singing some of my favorites this morning.  And since this is the fourth time we have done this as a congregation in the past three years, you might be able to say, you are a part of this, too.  I notice a few more people singing the words and even some other who can follow the shapes.  I thank you again for your indulgence.  This is very Baptist kind of singing.  We are a church that prides ourselves on those magical moments when the organ cuts out and we sing a familiar tune in four part harmony and something magical happens.  It’s God’s presence and that feeling of warmth and power that washes over you is another word for Grace. 

            As a preacher, time and again, I have the opportunity to preach in different settings.  The Nicaragua team remembers my stumbling Spanish when I preached at our sister church in Leon, Nicaragua.  When I preach in the midst of some responsive Baptists, I often get the talking back and forth.  I remember one time when I was preaching the kind of nuanced sermon that I sometimes preach and there were a few “Amens” here and there, or an occasional “well.”  But at one point if you get a bit off into the netherworld, someone might say, “make it plain.”  In other words, stop dancing around the core message.  Stop making excuses.  Stop wanting to hear yourself talk.  Make it plain.  Tell us what we need to hear, whether we want to or not.

            I think that’s one of our challenges today.  We don’t make it plain.  We dance around hard subjects.  We work hard to say the right thing, but on Sunday mornings, we ought to be able to make it plain. 

Sometimes that doesn’t need to be done through the words of a preacher.

Sometimes it can be done in the silence of the prayers. 

Sometimes it can be in the touch of another. 

Sometimes it can be in the power of mystical music. 

Sometimes it’s partaking of the bread and the cup at communion. 

Sometimes it’s even in the offering. 

But church is not a place to simply go through the motions.  It is a place to make it plain—our faith, our hope, the mercy love and righteousness we long for and need.

            So, my challenge to you today is to make it plain in all you do and all you are.

            Today’s scripture says that the people gathered around Jesus and said, “how long will you keep us in suspense?  If you are the Messiah, make it plan.”  Jesus replied, “I’ve already done that…I’ve done God’s works and therefore, I and God are one.”

            Now, this did not fit their concept of the Messiah.  They wanted a warrior who would overthrow Roman Rule.  But Jesus pointed to the signs of healing and hope he had done.  He said that that is God’s work.  “I have made it plain and still you don’t see it.”   

            They were blinded by their old ways of thinking.  They were so blinded that they could not see the truly helpful and even revolutionary vision of Jesus.  Jesus made it plain.  When you do the work of healing and hope and welcoming the outcast and giving the world an alternative to violence, then you are united with God.  It doesn’t get much plainer than that.  It’s not important who Jesus is.  It’s important that he does God’s work.  If we focused on who did the work more than who someone is, then we might have a different set of priorities in our world.

In this season of Easter, we sing joyous songs.  We remember the message of Jesus that when the forces of evil tried to silence him, he showed them that even death was not the final answer.  We live on the other side of that cross, on the other side of that tomb.  There is no better way to make it plain than to say that the resurrection means that the powers and principalities of this world, while formidable, are no match for the power of God.  And we are committed to God.  We follow God over and above this world.

So, our question comes down to how we are doing in relation to that standard.  Are we committed to doing acts of healing? 

Are we granting hope and reconciliation? 

Are we making it plain by our lives? 

I can’t answer that for you, but I encourage you to think about what you do in your life. 

Think about the statements you make to family and friends. 

Think about how you are known by others. 

Think about who you befriend. 

And then let you actions, your words, your prayers and your songs make it plain where your loyalties lie.           

A week and a half ago, I went to Sioux Falls, SD to be a part of the Minister’s Council retreat.  It was focused on clergy rest, but I was not there to rest.  I was there to engage other members of the Regional Policy Board who had recently ruled against the ordination recognition of openly gay and lesbian American Baptists.  I was not looking forward to this.  I would much rather not have to deal with these issues. I would like to believe that we’re beyond these kind of exclusionary practices as Baptists.  But I also knew that not saying anything, not making plain my own story, our church’s story, creates the climate where oppression can continue unchecked.  

Because I can be a person of little faith, I expected to be told where to go.  I expected to be shunned.  I expected to be ignored.  But that’s not what happened.  I spent an hour or so with each member of the Regional Policy Board.  I spent time with staff and colleagues.  I told them our stories. I handed them the outline of a study program on human sexuality agreed upon at our April 17^th Area I meeting.  I had one person walk up to me and hold up my arms, saying “I’m holding up the prophet’s arms.”  I don’t think of myself as a prophet.  I’d like to think my life is a whole lot happier than that.  Instead of being shunned, I felt embraced.  I felt heard.  And I believe that making our story plain, I had the opportunity to bridge the gap that exists between us.

As you know, my wife Kim is a music therapist.  She told us in Forum last week how stroke patients often cannot talk, but can still sing.  They can do this because music and speech reside in different parts of the brain.  When she helps people sing and they hear their voices for the first time in months, they begin the process of reconnecting the synapses across the sides of the brain. 

I think the same principle happens when we dare to make it plain, when we dare to tell the truth, when we dare to live the truth.  A part of us that has been disconnected reconnects with another part of our beings and we start to restore ourselves to sanity.  That’s holy work.  That’s godly work.  That’s Christian work.  When we do acts of healing, acts of compassion, acts of mercy, acts of love, then we are doing God’s work.   We are making it plain who we are and who we follow. 

So as you sing, as you pray, as you tell the truth, as you witness to the grace in your life, I encourage you to make it plain.  When you do, you connect yourself with a force more powerful than yourself which can restore you and maybe even your corner of the world to sanity.

Amen.