April 25, 2010 | 4:00 p.m.
Victoria G. Curtiss
Associate Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church
Philippians 4:4–13
Years ago, my husband and I were dinner guests of parishioners who could make a significant contribution to the church’s next capital campaign. After we were seated with other guests at an elegant table, our host said, “I’ve been poor and I’ve been rich.” Then, smiling broadly, he declared, “I prefer being rich!”
Don’t we all? It’s much more enjoyable as a church to explore how to expand our ministry with increased resources than to cut back our budgets. The same is true in our personal lives.
The Apostle Paul said, “I know what it is to have little and to have plenty.” But Paul doesn’t state a preferred condition. Instead he says, “I have learned the secret of being content with whatever I have.”
That secret is worth more than being rich. That secret is known by our Presbyterian brothers and sisters in Havana, Cuba. I was recently there on a mission trip with members of Fourth Church. Pastor Hector Mendez welcomed our group saying, “Life here is not like in the United States or other developed countries. If you adapt, you will have a good experience. If you don’t adapt, this will not be a blessing.” We saw our Cuban friends take delight in each day, but not because life is easy. The housing shortage there requires as many as three generations to live in one small space. Transportation is difficult. When the only toilet on the third floor of the church’s dorm where all the women of our group were sleeping stopped working, a member of the church spent the whole afternoon driving around the city trying to find a replacement part—with no success, only a tip on where it might be obtained in a few days.
Life is difficult in Cuba. But we didn’t hear complaints. We experienced warm and abundant hospitality. Members of the church made Stephanie a beautiful, large, delicious birthday cake, and they were so pleased to see her delighted gratitude. They had sacrificed much effort and probably their own food rations to find enough eggs to make the cake. We observed in Sunday worship one person after another lining up to tell the congregation how God had blessed them that week. With each bit of joyous news, the congregation would wave their bulletins in the air.
Priest Richard Rohr noted a significant difference between people in the United States and people in less developed countries: Americans expect life to be easy, and when it isn’t, we complain. People in the Third World expect life to be difficult, and when it isn’t, they are grateful.
This difference is even more pronounced when you add people’s faith to the mix. William Willimon took undergraduate students twice to Haiti on mission trips. He said, “There was widespread agreement that the most disarming thing about the country was the laughter of the children, along with their raucous singing.” We saw this on the eve of the earthquake in Haiti. In the midst of horrendous devastation, loss, and chaos, Haitian people in Port-au-Prince prayed, sang hymns, and danced in the streets. And it wasn’t a one-time occurrence. This past Friday the PBS NewsHour showed people in Haiti being moved away from tents along hillsides and gullies where their lives would be endangered once the rainy season comes to a flat, elevated area. The people probably didn’t go there initially because there is no vegetation: it is rocky, and it’s also far from schools and vendors. But the news clip ended featuring a young woman singing—singing about faith and hope, glad to be saved from the possibility of drowning.
We can hardly imagine that. We are accustomed to things working; we are used to solving problems; and we are materially wealthy. We take for granted that we can go to the nearby hardware store and find a replacement part, the only difficulty being deciding which brand to choose. We measure success through numerical growth and complain when our day is not productive—even as the church. But Hector Mendez was right when he said, “We have learned much from you, but now American churches can learn from us.”
Cuban Christians kept their faith even under years of persecution. For thirty years, while Cuba was officially declared an atheistic state, many were afraid to attend worship. Christians were discriminated against; Sunday school lessons were hard to print; and Bibles were scarce. First Church in Havana was the largest of the Presbyterian churches, averaging about thirty-five worshipers weekly. Some churches were kept open by only a handful, mostly women. A whole generation grew up not knowing Jesus Christ.
Yet during this time, Cuban young people noticed that the church helped others better than anyone else. Christian students were taught to always have a positive attitude, which showed other people what it truly meant to be Christian. They prayed that the gospel would spread. Pastor Mendez believes it was the behavior of Christians during those years of persecution, and the power of God’s Spirit, that led to the amazing growth in the churches since religious freedom in Cuba opened up in recent years. They lived out what Paul said: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” That is the Scripture verse on yellow T-shirts that members of the church now wear and freely give to guests. To paraphrase William Willimon, they are daring defiant delight (“Now Can We Sing?” Christian Century, 23 March 2010, p. 12).
Being joyful in tough times, serving others even with limited resources, praying for the gospel to spread, trusting in God’s work—these are hallmarks of being a faithful church. By living this way, we show we are drawing strength and hope from a source beyond ourselves, above our current circumstances. We reveal our true identity, as God’s beloved, baptized in Christ. In our baptism we not only have died with Christ, but we have also been raised with him into newness of life. We are an Easter people. As Bishop Desmond Tutu proclaimed, “Goodness is stronger than evil. Love is stronger than hate. Light is stronger than darkness. Life is stronger than death. Victory is ours through him who loves us.”
In an outdoor midweek worship service, Hector Mendez reminded us that we all worship under the same stars and we all worship the same God. For all of us, God is our rock, our redeemer, our strength. Let us take courage in our faith and dedicate ourselves to lives of sacrificial service as our Cuban brothers and sisters do. Let us embrace the risen life, that we may do as Paul urges: “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4).
Sermon © Fourth Presbyterian Church