A Fourth Church Sermon by Joanna M. Adams

October 13, 2002 | 9:30 and 11:00 a.m.

Joanna M. Adams
Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 99
Exodus 33:12–23

Although preachers might appear to our parishioners as paragons of serenity and nonanxious presence, most of us are inveterate worriers. We worry about all kinds of things. We worry about your problems. We worry about problems in the parish: money, committee meetings, disgruntled church elders and deacons, though, happily, there are none of those at Fourth Presbyterian Church. I am speaking of those other churches I have served! This morning at about 3:00 a.m., I found myself waking up and sitting straight up in bed worrying if there would be water in the baptismal font this morning. There is nothing more disconcerting than to dip one’s hand into the baptismal bowl and to come up dry.

There has been a lot to worry about today. The great throngs participating in the Chicago Marathon made me wonder if anyone would show up for worship. I resisted the temptation to put a sermon title on the sign outside at Delaware and Michigan that would be particularly catchy. I remember a story we used to tell at seminary about a homiletics professor who urged his students always to have a very compelling sermon title. One day, to drive the point home, he said, “You should have a sermon title that is so powerful that people who are passing by on a bus will be so struck by it that they will get off at the next stop and come back to worship. Can any of you think of a sermon title that would have that kind of punch?”

There was silence for a while, and then a student in the back raised his hand. “How about this one, Professor? ‘Your Bus Is on Fire!’”

There is one more thing that I will share with you which all preachers worry about. We want so badly to help you make the connection between the word of God and the life that you and I actually live, and that is not always the easiest thing to do. Take this morning’s rather arcane text from the book of Exodus. In a place long ago and far away, Moses, the great patriarch of Israel, had a conversation with the Lord. Yet, here we are on Michigan Avenue in the year 2002. People come from all over the world to enjoy a paradise of shopping and style, fashion and dining on the Magnificent Mile. Fourth Church sits in the shadow of great towers of commerce and consumption. I love working here for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is that a run in my hose can be immediately remedied by a trip across the street to Lord and Taylor.

As I go back and forth, I am struck again and again as to how profound the difference is between the message that is proclaimed in this sanctuary and the message that is proclaimed on the avenue around us. I heard former governor of New York Mario Cuomo say recently that the philosophy of recent years in American society can be summed up with these words: “Me want more,” and I want it now. Whatever I have already is not good enough or trendy enough. No matter what I have, I am always worried that I ought to have more.

Not long ago, I had a conversation with a friend who is an art collector. We sat in his home surrounded by beautiful paintings and sculptures. He spoke with genuine anxiety about whether or not he was going to be able to provide enough for his children to get by on when he was gone. We redefine how much is enough at every different stage of life, so that no matter how much we have, it never seems sufficient.

Every day, I listen to the newly installed chimes at Fourth Presbyterian Church as they ring out across the streets of our city. They remind the entire community that God is here. The most important message the church has to proclaim is that God alone is to be glorified. God, and not the self, is to be worshiped. We are not the center of the universe.

What do you imagine has caused such a trend of greed and corruption in corporate culture? Surely it is more than a few CEOs who have crossed the line. There is something out of control in our society. Is it the insatiable wish for more that causes some leaders of corporations to forget their moral groundings and bearings? And yet, all of us want more. Capitalism wouldn’t work without that drive. Business is about making the most money for the shareholders of the business, but if that is the only guide we live by, then we will lose ourselves as a society and as human beings. There was great wisdom in the words of G. K. Chesterton, who wrote, “There are two ways to have enough. The first is to accumulate more and more; the second way is to desire less.”

So we come into this sacred place in the presence of God to ask the question behind Moses’ worries in the wilderness: “How much is enough?” Even though God had given him all he needed and had given the Hebrew people everything they possibly could have wanted to survive and to find direction into the Promised Land, Moses wanted more. He asked the ultimate of the Lord: “Show me your glory. I want to see you face to face.” God answered Moses by saying, “I will not show you my face because no one can see the face of God and live.” But because the Lord was merciful, he went on to say to Moses, “I will put you in the cleft of the rock and I will cover your face with my hand until I have passed by. I will take away my hand and you will see my back, but my face you will not see.”

In that moment, the Lord taught Moses a lesson that modern society has all but forgotten: to be human is to have limits. Only God has no limits. The wish for more got Adam and Eve into trouble in the Garden of Eden. God had given them everything they had needed, and yet they were not content.

Our faith tradition time and time again speaks of the foolishness of not acknowledging limits, most specifically, of having acquisition at the heart of one’s life. “And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?” Jesus said (Matthew 6:28–30).

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Matthew 6:19–21).

You remember the story of the two grave diggers who were speaking with one another about the very wealthy and prominent person whose hearse was passing by in the cemetery. One asked the other, “Do you know how much he left?”

The other answered, “Everything.”

There is, at the heart of being, a sense of proportion, but if we give our hearts completely over to what we think we must have, then we will lose the inherent harmony God intends.

A Japanese Zen master expressed this truth well as he lay dying. He said to his disciples, “I have learned only one thing in life—how much is enough” (Harry Cox, “The Market as God,” The Atlantic Monthly, March 1999).

There is also the teaching of our Savior, who not long before his own death said to his disciples, “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?” (Mark 8:35–36). We live at a time and place in history when the urge for more has been given free reign in every quarter. This has never led to genuine health or happiness and never will.

I was pleased to learn that Jimmy Carter had won the Nobel Prize for Peace. The announcement of his award caused me to take out a book of his memoirs. In the closing chapter of the book, President Carter remembers attending the funeral for Mrs. Martin Luther King Sr. He recalls the sermon that was preached that day and how the preacher said that the gravestone for Mrs. King would have the date of her birth and the date of her death and that in between those two dates there would be a dash. That little dash was where the meaning of Mrs. King’s life was to be found. “What do we do with that little dash that is our life?” (Jimmy Carter, Living Faith, Times Books, 1996). Our lives will have meaning if we have lived them according to the principles of what we can give, not what we can keep and accumulate.

I am in favor of planning and prudence. Someone in this congregation said to me not long ago, “I am saving my money so I can leave a legacy to the church I love.” Giving is the only pathway I know to a life that is truly abundant. Helping us set limits on our appetites and our desire to get and hold everything close to ourselves—that is the wonderful, life-enhancing contribution this church can give to our lives. Here we realize that we have an unprecedented opportunity to learn how to let go and trust God. Here we learn the hollowness of the mantra, “Shop ’til you drop.” We are inspired instead to give until we are full of joy. Only when we are able to let go can we receive the wholeness and goodness that is God’s will for us.

In the early 80s I went on a trip to the country of Ghana with a group of Presbyterian ministers. At breakfast our first morning, one of the American ministers said, “I have to confess to you that last night after all of you had gone to sleep, I went into the bathroom, and I took all the soap and all the toilet tissue and packed them in my suitcase. I was so afraid that I would not have enough.” At lunch that day, we were served a feast in the home of a Ghanan Presbyterian pastor. Halfway through the meal, I noticed that our hosts were not eating. When I asked about it later, I was told, “We will eat after a while.” There had not been enough, and our hosts wanted us to have our share, so they had gone without food. Have you gone without food today?

Here is a question to ponder: Don’t you think you have enough?

I wonder how much more we need. “God will fully satisfy every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19). That is a promise that you can take to the bank.

To God be the glory in your life, this day and always. Amen.

More