First Presbyterian Church of Watertown

Mark 7 and Acts 18

“So Much to Say”

The Rev. Dr. Fred G. Garry

August 20, 2006

Terrorism is really putting a strain on travel these days. The latest attempt to destroy us, infidels that is, by crashing our commercial airliners has resulted in the grave imposition of banning liquids from all flights. Yet as we often do we will adjust. I can see this one already. As we now need to arrive at the airport just a few hours earlier and wait a little longer than our flight will actually last, we will find plenty of time to drink a venti frappachino from Starbucks and thus not bring it on the plane.

There is also now persistent strain of having to take our shoes off to those who have inadvertently worn exploding sneakers can be weeded out. Yet, again, we adjust. Having flown a few times this year I have developed strategies like wearing loafers that are slipped on and off easily, wearing pants that don’t need a belt and having a brief case. I do this so that everything metallic can be placed in there while I am given the intense screening of walking through a metal detector which works so well at screening out nail clippers and the dreaded sewing scissors.

This may not come as a surprise to some, but my most persistent challenge in flying commercial airlines is not speaking. So much of me wants to speak, wants to make comments as I go, interject questions to questions. Have your bags been in your possession at all times? Well there was that lovely fellow who agreed to bring them in his van for me so not to weigh our car down? Or I always think of qualifications like distance. Is there a distance, five feet, ten feet, twenty feet where possession is no longer recognized? What about the time where the twenty-to-thirty baggage handlers throw them around the sorting area, are they always in possession of my bag?

This is just the sarcastic gurgle that gets me from the car to the check in desk. Once inside the terminal it becomes very difficult for me to maintain even this level of seriousness. For how can you not be sarcastic when representatives from the airline all of sudden have no idea where your plane is, when it will arrive, or whether or not there will be enough seats? How is it that I am expected to keep such an intense vigil surrounding one bag that is always stuffed way too full to accommodate as little another pair of underwear, and they simply loose planes, reservations, and find it near impossible to inform people in a timely manner that, alas, their planes are not working today?

You see where I am going. Usually in situations like this (the airlines are not the only ones who create chaos for millions), usually in situations like this I find humor as a kind of leveler or devise for defusing tension. Yet, humor is truly not a good strategy at the airports these days. Kathy knows how hard this is for me and has to multitask like an air traffic controller. She has to watch her bag, lest she fail the entry question; she has to watch Dave as the airport in his eyes appears as a kind of jungle gym to explore; and, she has to watch me that I don’t answer the questions how I would like to answer the questions.

Unfortunately for my wife the airport now has as evil twin at our boarding crossing with Canada. She generally starts preparing me when there are five or six cars ahead, “just answer the questions.” Truly, though, if I had to write a list of the number of places where it would be best that I don’t speak and yet always tend to speak regardless the sermon today would be voluminous. Most of these places are where sarcasm is not appreciated.

One morning a year or so ago we awoke to find the western end of our street cordoned off with yellow tape. Every agency from fire and police, to hazmat and news were inside. I walked down the block, newspaper still in hand, to ask one of the firefighters on the fringe, "What’s going on?" "Methlab," one said, without much ado. “Aw man, I said, so you’re telling me we finally get convenient meth and you guys are taking them out?” They laughed heartily. I wish I could say Kathy had the same response when I recounted our conversation. But sarcasm is not always well received.

Maybe you do this or maybe you don’t, but I walk into at least one meeting a week it seems making myself promise, “you will keep your mouth shut.” Don’t say anything is another pre-meeting-self-directive. But it never works. I always say something.

Hence, our first passage today is one I can truly and deeply relate to. Jesus said, “keep it quiet,” “don’t say a word” and nobody could. I know, in my heart of hearts, had Jesus said, “tell no one,” I would have nodded and then would have had no ability to not to say something. I don’t think I could do it. For this wasn’t a bad thing or a shameful thing, the kind of thing you carry for a friend in confidence. This was something good, something wonderful and I would have told someone that.

I can remember being a young parent and not yet realizing that children who have a propensity for being loud truly do not possess the ability to be quiet. I can remember being amazed by how telling them to be quiet made it worse; they became louder. I believe the disciples were like this. Had Jesus asked them to keep something quiet that was terrible, something awful, I believe they would have done so. Yet, the deaf hearing and the mute speaking, not a chance.

In our second reading though we have a curious moment in the life of Paul, a moment about speaking. Paul hears the voice of God speak to him in a vision and the vision tells him, “do not be afraid, but speak and do not be silent.” The curiosity here is that the Apostle Paul seems, at least up to this point in Acts, to have no problem speaking. In fact he seems to speak non stop. Our passage says he argued every Sabbath in the synagogue until they told him to beat it, which he did, he went next door and started a church where he could talk some more.

Our passage today doesn’t give any direct clues as to why Paul was afraid to speak. It doesn’t say things like, and Paul having said too much decided to be silent for a time and let others have a go. It doesn’t say, and Paul realized he was starting to sound like a broken record and decided to take a vow of silence so others apostles might develop their preaching skills. It could be Paul was discerning the value of the adage “lend any man your ear, but few your tongue.” Shakespeare said that but I am sure he heard it from someone.

My guess, and my hope, is that Paul ran into the wall of humility that often arises in the midst of the church become chaos. And the church in Corinth was surely that. How could it not be when you imagine the tension of being right next to the synagogue? It must have been rather bizarre. Paul, in our passage, made a big show of shaking the dust from his feet and declaring their blood was not on his head and walked off in a huff . . . next door. Something tells me this situation forced his hand as to what the church was really meant to be. I don’t believe this challenged his faith that Jesus is the Christ; I believe it was a moment where he realized that what the church was supposed to be was render clear and in the clarity he saw how little he had figured out. And that is the sort of moment that truly renders someone like Paul silent.

This is where we become silent. We believe in Jesus Christ; we believe in forgiveness; we believe in the resurrection from the dead and the power of truth to set people free from sin. We believe these things and we are not afraid to speak them, confess them. And it is not like we are a band of silent folk or mutes likes the man in the Decapolis region. No. In fact we are very free with our thoughts and ideas, our opinions and frustrations. We value talking things out, dialogue, brainstorming. We fill our days with people talking to us either on the television or in the newspapers. In many ways we perhaps need to talk less. But we are often silent when it comes to the church.

Ask us what we believe and we will make it clear. Yet, if given the opportunity to speak about the church, to describe the church and our wellspring of words runs dry. Let me augment that, we can tell people what the church is doing, but are we not hesitant to say, you need to be a part of this, this is the direction God is leading us, do you want to be a part? Isn’t this the moment where we become silent?

Again, Paul was quite a blatherer (in my book) when it came to what he believed. Yet, in Corinth, it seems he came face to face with the challenge of having to say, this is what the church is and this is what it means and you should be a part of it and not the synagogue next door. There is a difference between confessing faith in Christ and promoting a particular church. Yet, isn’t that difference our greatest challenge today? Most people confess faith in Christ, but few live out that faith in a church.

In Corinth Paul bumped into the difference between being a believer and being a disciple. You see I have no problem accepting that someone believes in Jesus Christ and yet stays away from the church for months at a time. No problem. I do though have a problem believing they are growing as a disciple of Jesus Christ. I believe they believe, but I don’t believe they are growing as a disciple. This may be what gave Paul pause, making him mute.

Remember as you go home and speak to people about First Pres, inviting them to church is not about inviting them to belief most likely. Most likely they believe in God, have had some exposure to the Christian church, may have even grown up in a church. What you are inviting them to is discipleship, a life of worship and prayer, devotion to scripture, fellowship, and mission. This is rather daunting. So daunting that it renders us silent most of the time. Yet, don’t be silent.

Remember the next time you are telling yourself to be quiet or not to speak, remember, God is calling us to speak to others about being part of the body of Christ. If you are like me and have a hard time not speaking in the moments where we most likely should be silent, take heart that there are moments God is actually calling us to talk. Talk to our neighbors and friends, our family and new acquaintances. Tell them about being a part of a church; invite them to grow in their faith as a disciple here at First Pres. Listen to what God said to Paul, “don’t be afraid. Speak and don’t be silent.” Amen.