Sermon by Reverend Dr. John W. Mann | August 11, 2024

Proverbs 8

During our trip to Japan in 2013 Lindsay and I observed some bad behavior from American tourists. The funny thing was that from their viewpoint they were acting normally. From the viewpoint of a different culture, they were being incredibly rude.

We were in a marketplace and we had bought some ice cream from a vendor. We were sitting on a bench enjoying it. Four tourists came to the vendor and in the process of ordering ice cream they came across as loud, aggressive, entitled and rude. The woman serving them was very polite. Being polite is a hallmark of Japanese culture. The four Americans moved on unaware of the impression they left in their wake.

There are ways to ask questions. One day we were in a train station and we needed directions. The first rule is, don’t yell. A raised voice does not lower the language barrier. A simple greeting to begin the conversation goes a long way towards making it a friendly transaction. And then rather than straight out asking where thus and such is, one says, “I am wondering if I might ask for directions?”

And then you are met with, “Oh yes of course – how may we help you?”

Questions asked in the right way can usually take us where we need to go.

Does that imply that it’s a good thing to question our faith?  Perhaps so. Some people will come through a crisis and admit to losing their faith. Whatever it was about God that they believed or trusted in, was not enough to sustain them in their hour of need. Or people simply grow out of faith. The childlike trust that brings people into the kingdom is not enough to keep them there when the going gets rough.

If I were to look back on the faith I had as a child and compare it to the faith I have today, I would have to say that they are different things. Even if I were to look back on the faith I had as a young man and compare it to the faith I have today as a 70-year-old man, I would say that those two faiths are very different things.

We learn lessons in life that translate into wisdom for living. Before I reached the age of five, I learned several such lessons. The first lesson came as a shock, literally. On tv there was an ad for the electric company in which a cartoon character named “Ready Kilowatt” would come charging out of the electrical socket. One day I found a Ready Kilowatt lapel pin that must have come as a promotional in a mailing. Since I thought Ready Kilowatt lived in the electrical socket, I attempted to send him home. That little jolt nearly sent me to my heavenly home.

Lesson One – Don’t put things in the electrical socket.

Another important lesson I learned would one day be emblazoned upon cigarette packages: Tobacco may be harmful to your health. This lesson took me two tries to figure out. My first experience with tobacco was at the age of three when I ate a cigarette. I learned that cigarettes are not for eating.

A third important lesson was, when a dog bares its teeth, it’s not smiling at you. For that lesson I earned a trip to the hospital, where I received what I liked even less than dog bites, a tetanus shot.

I had accumulated a fair amount of wisdom for a five-year-old. And that was just the wisdom of experience. There were other lessons to be learned. What we might call, “A word to the wise.” There’s a saying that goes, “A word to the wise is sufficient.” Meaning, that if you tell a wise person something, they get the message. They don’t have to put their hand on the hot stove top to realize that’s not what you want to do.

Part of my struggle with wisdom is that my parents couldn’t figure out whether I was a discerning person or a fool. After sticking things in the electrical socket, eating a cigarette and poking a growling dog, how were they to know? So their approach became a word to the wise combined with a few enforcing smacks.

The important lessons in life such as, “Look both ways before you cross the street, clean your plate” and “come inside to use the bathroom,” were all brought home with the reinforcing authority of the parental smack. Perhaps they read the proverb that said, “Spare the rod and spoil the child.”

In the bible, wisdom calls out from various locations. She says, “Pay attention people.” She is calling from the heights, beside the town gates, along the pathway and from the middle of the road she says, “Hear me before you take another step!”

It’s interesting that male dominated tribal system, what we would call a ‘patriarchal’ system this image of feminine wisdom would emerge. The tradition was that knowledge was passed down from father to son. When the son attained a level of adult knowledge, there would be a ceremony to mark his entry into manhood. The Bar Mitzvah. Basically, what it entailed was reciting from rote memory some portion of scripture.

Women traditionally did not have a bar mitzvah. The ceremony to mark their entrance into adulthood was a wedding. Perhaps that is why wisdom is she. She can’t be known by rote memorization. She can only be learned by experience.

We tend to think of God as “he.” After all we have this father and son image. And that notion has been convenient to a religious and cultural system based on patriarchy, or male dominance. But when we read the bible without our historical and cultural lenses in place, we see that God is referred to in many ways, including “she.”

One of the difficulties of what we call faith is that we like certainty. Rather than doubt being the opposite of faith, certainty is faith’s opposite. Faith is learning how to live with uncertainty; it is developing a sense of hope in the face of uncertain circumstances.

We appreciate knowing where things are. We point to the building and say, “There’s my church.” We can look at a set of beliefs and say, “This is my religion.” We ask questions in relation to spiritual matters and we expect concrete answers.

But such an approach creates problems. If we read through the bible, we discover that there are more questions raised than answers provided. But religion today has turned that equation around as if we are unable to handle open ended and thought-provoking questions.

So people shout louder and louder about what the Bible says or what the Koran says, the more determined they are to make their truth the only answer to any question, the louder they become and the more likely they are to use Scripture as a weapon. When Scripture becomes a weapon, it’s not long before real weapons come into use.

In Hebrew the word for wisdom is Hochma and it is translated into the Greek word, “Sophia.” Proverbs in offering us a word to the wise is saying that wisdom/Sophia was there when God laid the foundations of creation.

It was all just to say that God is much bigger than the confines of the human framework, which tends to make God an exclusively male deity. Jesus called God Father not because he meant to imply that God is strictly male, but to imply that God is like a loving dad; someone you can in relationship with. As opposed to the image of God popular in his day of a stern, angry and remote God.

When I baptize a baby, I sometimes wonder what’s going through their mind? So before we close out this talking part of our worship service, I want to invite you on a journey of the imagination. You don’t have to close your eyes, but you can if you wish. Imagine with me as we consider wisdom –

Do you remember when you were born? Probably not. Maybe being born is like waking up after a long sleep. Sometimes, when no one else is around do you ever wonder, ‘Where was I before I was born?’ Do you ever wonder, ‘Where will I be after I die?’ Here’s a story for you think about …

Once upon a time, before you were you, God said to you, ‘It’s time for you to be born, my child.’

And you said, ‘But I like it just fine here with you God. Why would I want to be born into the world? I don’t want to leave home.’

‘Well now my child,’ said God, ‘Every soul needs to live a little. Becoming a person with a life is how you grow up. Don’t worry. I’ll never really be far away from you. I’ll always be watching over you. No matter what you go through in your life, you will always be my child and I will always love you.’

You said to God, ‘If you say so, God.’ And the prospect of being born and living a life was, if you remember, just a wee bit frightening.

And about the time you were getting ready to be born God said to you, ‘It’s almost time now. Soon enough this will all seem like a dream and then like a dream this will fade and like a dream you forget when you wake up, you’ll eventually forget me.’

‘No, never God!’ you said, ‘I would never forget you.’

‘Don’t worry about it God said, ‘It happens. You might find your way back to remembering after a fashion. Some people get into their life and they think if they get all religious about it that they remember me. It isn’t like that. I don’t need any more religious people in the world.’

And you asked, ‘What do you need God?’

‘I need,’ said God, ‘People who love. Because I am love. And I put some of my spirit into your soul.’ And God went on to tell you, ‘Now here’s the thing about your life. You’re going to have a body and a soul. Don’t forget to feed your soul. Find something in your life that feeds your soul. That’s how you will remember.’

‘Like what?’ you wanted to know.

‘I can’t tell you that,’ God said, ‘that’s what living is for. It might be one thing or another. When you find what feeds your soul, you’ll know it. And I’ll tell you this – I don’t want you coming back here empty handed. I want you to bring me back the only thing that can cross the divide between life and death, between your life and my world of eternal light.’

‘What’s that?’ you wanted to know.

‘That,’ said God ‘is love. As you love and are loved, you touch upon my purpose for your life. Bring me back a heart full of love.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ you said.

‘Good,’ said God. ‘I think you’re ready to be born. I’ll be seeing you. I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ you said.

Do you remember?

Amen