Ephesians 2:1-10

You were dead through the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient.

All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, doing the will of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else, but God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we may walk in them.

Sermon Text

 Life is full. It is full of work that needs to be done and worries that we can have. It is full of those moments we could just sing and the moments where all we want to do is cry. Wherever we go, whatever we do, we are always stepping into a deep river of things. They can become overwhelming, demanding everything of us at every moment. It is hard to take a rest, to find any place of security in the great sea of experience that we all struggle through. Despite that, rest is essential, and finding a foundation we can rest upon is the only way we can really find any peace.

Sometimes it can feel like a marvel, as we walk through the concrete surroundings that defines so much of our life, that plants grow up in the midst of the cracks between the cement. However, for the right kind of plant, that concrete is an ideal place. Unlikely to wash away or break, it shield their roots from their elements. Meanwhile, that little stem poking out and spreading leaves and flowers is able to take in all the sunlight and water and air it needs. Is there anything especially shocking that a well rooted, protected plant can thrive? The anchor need not be anything extravagant as long as there is something for it to grab onto.

In our own lives, as people of faith, there is a strange foundation on which Christ asks us to find rest in. We sing, of course, of Leaning on the Everlasting Arms, we trust in Christ’s transformative Spirit, but that is not the image that scripture conjures again and again to give us a foundation for our ability to rest. No, I would say that those are the natural conclusions of scriptures mantra regarding why we should not worry or wrap ourselves up in fear. Strangely enough, when scripture asks us to be at peace it is almost always in the context of our own limitedness. Christ bids us come and rest  because we are all sinners who have fallen short of the glory of God, and we mortal beings who are here today and gone tomorrow.

Why is that comforting? How can we look to our short time on Earth and sign in relief instead of anxiety? Likewise, what in the world does my sinful foundation have to do with my future hope of redemption? Why are we constantly reminded of these seeming shortcomings when scripture is trying to inspire us to something better?

There is a contradiction in our lives as people of faith. We are able to be confident in what we do, not because we are especially holy or talented or good, but precisely because we are not the best at everything we set out to do. While God gives us gifts and talents – God does not make those talents perfect nor does God give us every possible talent. There are blind spots and weaknesses that we all face and those are common to all people. Despite appearances, the most sainted person in a Church community has their fair share of failings and the person who is seen as an outcast or a troublemaker, probably has something God gave them that they either do or could excel at.

Let me provide myself as an example. I was an angry child. My family was not good at expressing their feelings, and so I learned from them that shouting was a good way to get things across. That was a limitation of my flesh, imposed partly by innate predispositions in my soul and as a product of my raising. However, when I was fully aware of my limitations, I asked God and others for help, and suddenly I was not working toward being a calmer person alone. I had God on my side, I had people willing to understand my journey. Now, only two things ever make me snap at people regularly – anytime I have to put together furniture and sudden and very taxing problems.

The foundational truth of our limited nature is build upon a larger truth, namely that God is not limited. Though we can easily see scriptures description of us as having hearts prone to sin, bodies that rebel against God’s law, and minds that just don’t get it as a reason to beat ourselves up – to fall down spiraling rabbit holes of self-hatred – God means us to see this as a leveling statement. We are all of us sinners, yes, but we are all of us loved by a God who went from Heaven to Earth, Earth to the Grave, and all the way back again just so we could had a chance to break from all that trouble.

Ever wonder why God forgives us our sins, long before we get any better at not sinning? Why we can come back to God when we fail and trust we will be given another chance? It is not because God wants to write as many blank checks for salvation as God can. No, instead it is because God earnestly believes that the foundational thing shared by all humans is our mortality, and the greatest gift God can give us is hope for a second chance.[1] It can seem paradoxical that we are freed and lifted up by acknowledging our weakness, but the foundation of our faith is that while we are weak God is strong. Again, not so we develop complexes about how awful we are, but so that in every good things we do and every good habit we develop, we can see God’s Spirit at work,

I said at the outset that scripture often gives us our own human failing as the foundation of our hope in what Christ did. I say that intentionally because the reality of my shortcomings is often more obvious to me than anything God has done. I know I will die and I know that I sin. Those two things I trust will always lurk in my mind. If I know that is true about me, and scripture tells me that I am not alone, but that all people have this same struggle, I can look around and see that it is true. No wonder then, that I feel hopeful when scripture tells me that God is greater than either death or Sin. That I can grow to become better, and enjoy more of this life, because God is not done with me or with humanity.

I grew up in a church that wanted us to be ashamed a lot. Girls were always told that they were tempting boys, boys were always told that they were neglecting God for sports. If we did anything commendable, anything good, we were also reprimanded with the idea that even our best work was like dirty rags to God. It was not an environment that inspired hope. I believe it is because the youth minister I had, had never understood what we talked about this morning. God does not hold sin and death over our heads, God breaks the chains of sin and death. We bring the reality of sin and death with us wherever we are, God simply points to it, holds out a key, and asks if we would like to be free.

Free from the need to chase after empty things that do not comfort us. Free from the need to fight each other over crumbs of attention. Free from the need to sin and sin again, just for an inkling of something meaningful. God points to our sin, not to send us down into a bog of self-hatred, but to acknowledge what we already know. We are lost and weighed down and we need help to get out. We are offered redemption and we are given it freely. My hope is built upon Christ and all that he has done, and when I need inspiration to keep moving toward his ideal, oddly enough it helps for me to take a moment and acknowledge first how frail I am.

Christ did not sin, so he did not have these problems I have. Yet, he lived a life just like mine. If I follow his example, I may just be able to live a fraction of the life Christ lived. Yet, I am limited, I could not do it alone. Thanks be to God, that when we remember our sin, we as people of faith are not called to be lost in it. We mourn the harm we have caused, we make up for the damage we have inflicted upon others, but we do not sit and wallow in it. When we see our Sin for what it is, it naturally follows that we see how much bigger Christ is than it, and somehow we can grow, we can be redeemed, as we once never could have dreamt. – Amen

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[1] This is discussed at length in Barbara Brown Taylor’s Speaking of Sin.