The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost (Year C, Proper 8 RCL)
July 1, 2007
The Reverend Paul R. Abernathy, Rector
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Faithfulness. The word is derived from the Greek, pistis, often translated faith. Yet, faithfulness is less about the capacity to believe or to
trust, or even biblically understood, believing or trusting in Jesus. Rather, faithfulness has to do with being believed, being trusted. It
connotes reliability, trustworthiness, or even loyalty. Faithfulness, then, even from the point of view of the Bible, is not so much a theological virtue,
but an ethical one. For it has less to do with our relationship with God and more with our human relationships, one with another in our native and
chosen communities and one with “the other,” those outside of our communities.
On the Sundays in July, the sermons will focus on faithfulness. We hope to look at some of its dimensions, the issues that arise as we consider the
matter, the meaning of faithfulness in our daily living. It is our intent, in the light of our communal ethos, not so much to answer our questions, but
to question our answers, so to deepen our appreciation of this virtue.
Today, we look at faithfulness when the choice is either/or.
Elijah threw his cloak over Elisha, symbolizing his appointment as Elijah’s successor.[1] Elisha, in understanding the
significance of the action, believing that there was but one response, asked for permission to bid his family farewell. Elijah tested Elisha’s
faithfulness, saying, “Go, what have I done to you?” implying that casting his cloak meant nothing. But Elisha was faithful. His statement, “Let
me kiss my father and mother, then I will follow you,” was a pistos logos, a true word. He slaughtered his oxen – all twelve teams! – thus
relinquishing his vast wealth. He burned the yoke, the equipment of his work, thus renouncing his livelihood as a plowman. He served the meat
to the people as a parting feast, thus breaking with his past.
Jesus, faithful to his calling, “set his face to go to Jerusalem.”[2] He had been preaching and teaching in the Galilean
countryside. Now, the time was at hand to go to the city to proclaim God’s kingdom, God’s realm of love and justice, and to call the authorities to
account for their abdication of their responsibility to that kingdom. On his journey to Jerusalem, Jesus encountered three would-be followers. One
professed unconditional allegiance, but hadn’t counted the cost. Another conditioned the acceptance of the call on first honoring family ties.
Still another, said, “I will follow you, Lord,” and with one word, nullified the spontaneity of that declaration of discipleship, adding, “but.”
That person’s logos, word, was not pistos, true. In the face of the either/or decision presented by Jesus’ immediate call, that person
chose both/and.
Faithfulness. One dimension, it seems, is trustworthiness, loyalty when the choice is either/or.
However, once I state it for myself that clearly, my internal critic, my inner skeptic speaks up, asking: Who truly lives an either/or life? Even
Jesus, being fully human, struggled whether to be faithful to his call to challenge the worldly authorities, a challenge that always bore the risk,
if not also the promise of death. If he didn’t wrestle – and the story of the wilderness temptations indicates that he did! – then his decision to
be faithful was easy and, therefore, of little consequence. No. I believe that Jesus struggled with faithfulness. Sometimes I think that he wandered
around Galilee for so long trying to get up the nerve to go to Jerusalem!
But I confess that my protest may be self-serving, for, truth to tell, I don’t like either/or choices. I like having options. In part because life
is complex and choices made in response to real issues, concerns, and problems must involve the deepest discernment, where I hold in reflexive relation
the concrete circumstances of the instant situation and my values and beliefs. A discernment that is inherently nuanced and, therefore, always simply
profound. A discernment that, in its inherent profundity, usually doesn’t result in unambiguous choices.
Furthermore, I don’t like either/or choices even when my principles, which are love and justice, are clear. Because principles – distilled from my
ongoing reflection on my experience and meant to guide my theology and ethics, my believing and behaving – are hard to do. Both because in every
situation, I must discern what love and justice in action look like and because I don’t always want to do what my principles demand. There are
times when my desire is not to be faithful.
Still more, there are times when my values and beliefs, especially when clear, clash with those of the communities of which I am a part. My personal
theology is not orthodox and, in many aspects, is out of alignment with my Episcopal Church, even at its broadest point, making it impossible for me
to answer faithfully that I believe everything, say, in the Creed. Invariably, I, through the lens of my very personal interpretation, end up
answering not either/or, but both/and.
Finally, there are times when I perceive that the principles of the communities of which I am a part are not upheld by those entrusted with their
keeping. As we near our national holiday, indeed, our national holy day, I am put in mind of the value of the inherent equality of all persons.
Notwithstanding the reality that “equality” has been defined variously and applied selectively over the two hundred thirty-one years of our
national life, I cannot ignore the countless historical examples of our American failure to practice in our lives what we profess with our lips.
So, where am I left? I’d like to believe with Jesus. Not as a worshiper of a perfectly faithful either/or Lord. But as a follower of one who struggled
daily to discern who he was and what he was called to do and, in that discernment, strived to do the right as he saw the right. Striving, that is,
trying and, at times, failing, and, then, trying again is, I believe, what faithfulness is.
[1] The Hebrew scripture text appointed for the day is 1 Kings 19.15-16, 19-21.
[2] The gospel passage appointed for the day is Luke 9.51-62.
