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Sermon Nov. 27, 2005 |
A Sermon Preached at
On the ninth of November, 1895, the British humor magazine Punch ran a cartoon which showed a timid curate—the lowliest echelon in the church hierarchy—having breakfast at the home of his bishop—the man with absolute authority over his life. The bishop observes his lowly minion to be in some distress and remarks, “I’m afraid you’ve got a bad egg, Mr. Jones.” The curate, not wishing to give his lord and master offense, replies, “Oh, no, my Lord, I assure you that parts of it are excellent!” Thus, according to scholars, the phrase “the curate’s egg” entered the vocabulary. “The curate’s egg” as in the sentence, “this sermon is something of a curate’s egg,” means something partly good and partly bad and so not entirely satisfactory.
Most of us experience life as something of a curate’s egg: parts of it are excellent, but a lot of it is pretty awful. Life is such a mixture that sometimes it doesn’t seem to matter much what we do. The way of the wicked prospers, bad things happen to good people and no good deed goes unpunished. Sometimes the curate’s egg mixture of things is downright disheartening.
It can come as good news that some things really do matter and that others do not. The great spiritual writer Thomas Merton once said that the most revolutionary thing he ever did was to say to a drugstore clerk who wanted to know what kind of toothpaste he preferred, “I don’t care.” Merton was aware, of course, that in the world of advertising, each toothpaste has its secret ingredients and conflicting claims to excellence—as does every soap powder, washing machine, television and car in our world. He was aware that we are supposed to care very deeply which one we prefer. To say to this commercial world, “I don’t care” is a revolutionary act.
Today is the First Sunday of Advent—the start of a brief season of preparation for the coming of Christ. We prepare not only for the commemoration of Christ’s coming at Christmas, but also for the return of Christ at the end of time. Today, for example, our readings are about the end of time. Isaiah talks about God tearing open the heavens and coming to earth in anger, ready to punish us for our misdeeds. Mark quotes Jesus as saying that this judgment day will come as a surprise and that we ought to stay awake and be ready for it. While these readings strike some of us as the sort of gloomy and punishing kind of bad news you’d expect in Church, I contend that the theme of judgment day can be really great news. For one thing if we expect a day in which God’s rule puts an end to all the pettiness of this world, there are just a lot of things in this world that we don’t have to care about. For another, if God’s rule really does pass judgment on this world, there are a lot of other things in the world worth caring about.
Incidentally, the rite of Holy Baptism which we are conducting today conveys the same message. In our baptismal covenant we try to draw some distinctions between the things worth caring about and the things that just don’t matter. For example: what church you go to doesn’t matter. Nobody gets baptized as Presbyterian, Episcopalian, or Roman Catholic. At the end of time, that doesn’t seem to matter. But it does matter a great deal that we continue to be a part of community of faith—that we continue in the fellowship and sacraments and prayers and reconciliation. It doesn’t matter much what job we do or how much money we make or what material possession we hold onto; it matters tremendously how we treat people, whether we offer people hope and compassion. Race and culture and nationality and sexual orientation don’t matter at all, but working for justice and peace and treating everybody with respect and dignity are huge.
Jesus says that the day is coming when we will get to see what really matters and what we don’t have to care about. In fact, says Jesus, that day is coming sooner than you can imagine. I’m quite certain Jesus is right about that. I know from my own experience that you don’t have to wait until the end of time for judgment day. I’ve been with a lot of people with terminal illnesses and I know for a fact that facing the end of your own days has a way of shaking up your priorities: dying people don’t seem to care so much any more how many goodies they have—they seem to care a lot about the quality of relationships. Likewise, I’ve been privileged to be around a lot of people who have new children in their households. I notice that when there is a new life in your house you tend to care passionately what kind of world your kids will inherit—whether it is a world of war and over consumption or whether it is a world of peace, justice and compassion. I’ve noticed, too, that forced choices are often good for us. I’ve been privileged to watch family values shift when a beloved child tells a conservative parent they are gay. Something remarkable can happen to your judgments when you believe in the inherent goodness and dignity of your child and you let go of old ideas.
Jesus says, “What I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.” Be awake to the world of choices around us. In this curate’s egg of life in which the good comes mixed up with the bad, be aware of what matters and what doesn’t. To the world of materialism and prejudice have the courage to say, “I just don’t care.” To the world of compassion, peace and respect have the passion to say, “I do care, I care very deeply.” For the day is coming for all of us when we’ll know what matters and what does not. AMEN