First United Methodist Church
Birmingham, Michigan
Scriptures: Genesis 12:1-4, Ephesians 5:25-33
October 24, 1999
Last Sunday, Harold Melin ushered in the center aisle at 9:30. This Sunday, Harold is in Pontiac Osteopathic Hospital with heart problems. He needs a pacemaker. But, so far, they haven’t been able to install one. It seems that Harold has funny veins. They cross….where they aren’t supposed to.
Harold was feeling pretty “punk” last Sunday. Weak. Dizzy. He wasn’t himself at all. Besides, Sunday wasn’t even his day to usher….or his crew’s day to usher. It was Dale Parker’s day. But Dale called Harold earlier in the week and said: “I am short five, Harold. Can you give me a hand?” To which Harold said: “Sure”….earlier in the week….when he felt good.
By Sunday, he felt sufficiently dizzy so as to joke with Betty about having her sit on the center aisle. That way, if he fumbled the plate, she would be there to catch the contents. Which amused her. But which also alarmed her. So she said to Harold: “If you’re feeling that lousy, why are you going?” To which Harold said: “Because I promised Dale.”
You can debate the wisdom of that until the cows come home. In point of fact, Harold came. Harold collected. And Harold didn’t spill. By the time Harold went home, he wasn’t feeling any better. But he wasn’t feeling any worse. He wasn’t trying to be heroic. As he said to me: “I was sure I could make it….and I promised Dale.” But I also know of five people who promised Bob Smith (on the Thursday before World Communion Sunday) that they would come and serve the elements. Except they didn’t. And none of them called Bob, begging off. Neither did they line up replacements. Which doesn’t make them sinners. Or Harold, a saint. But it is interesting, in its own little way.
I am a promise keeper. Always have been. Probably always will be. I was a promise keeper before Bill McCartney called everyone wearing trousers to the Silverdome to participate in a Christian male bonding experience of the same name. Concerning “Promise Keepers,” I went once. Thought it was a good thing. Although, not necessarily my thing. Having been there, I’m not sure what all of the critics are worried about. I just saw a lot of guys hearing some important stuff, and agreeing to hold up some important stuff, like the Lord….their wives….their kids…. and their pastors. What’s more, they seemed to be having a pretty good time doing it. Sort of like deer camp….with altar calls.
But, rallies or no rallies, promises are things I like to keep and hate to break. If I tell you I’ll be somewhere, I usually am. If I tell you I’ll do something, I usually do. Although I do over-commit. That’s because I hate to turn anything….or anybody….down. Meaning that sometimes I say too many “yesses” for my own good….even though, when I say them, I believe I am focusing upon your own good. If I have heard one constant refrain throughout my ministry, it has come from well-meaning people telling me I should learn how to say “No.” And they’re right. Not because they are saving my strength….or my sanity. But because they’re saving me from sin, don’t you see. I am talking about the sin of pastoral omnipotence….your dependence exaggerates my importance (as if I am the only one who can say it, pray it, preach it or perform it). You have no idea how insidiously tempting that is. Nor do you know how hard I battle against it.
So I try to prioritize my promises. And parcel my promises. So that the right things get done….at the right time….for the right reasons. And so that somebody, looking at my date book and my checkbook, might (someday) be able to preach my eulogy from those two documents alone. And make me look good. While I’ve got a way to go with both, I’ll take my chances.
But while it may sound like pandering to myself, kindly allow me to suggest that both church and culture suffer more from those who under-promise, than from those who over-promise. I am talking about people who are afraid to give their word on much of anything….to much of anyone. Such folk may have a ton of reasons….including poor models by both parents and peers. I mean, if you don’t know anybody who ever said it and stuck by it, I suppose you can’t be faulted for exhibiting similar behavior. But that’s a sermon for another day. I promise. You can take it to the bank.
Instead, I want to say a word about the perception that promise-making is overly-confining. To the degree that if you promise to go here, you can’t go there. And if you promise to do this, you can’t do that. And most of us want to do it all. Or we don’t want to make a decision on something lesser (early), that would close the door on something better (late). One reason that kids make so many last minute decisions is that they never know when a better offer might come down the pike. Or over the pager. Which makes a ton of sense when you’re a kid. But there comes a point when such behavior becomes inexcusable….like when you’re not a kid anymore, yet still doing it.
But even in those days of childhood and adolescence….when character is the consistency of under-chilled Jello….it is the wise parent who helps a kid follow through on promises made. If your kid tries out for a team….if you buy all the equipment the team requires….if everybody’s schedule is rearranged so that team practices can be honored and team games can be watched….only to have the kid decide (four games into the season) that “this isn’t any fun, because I’m not any good”….quitting ought not be automatic or immediate. Rather, the conversation should begin with the question: “When does the season end?” Followed by the question: “What can we do to help you see it through to that point, so that it might be a relatively decent experience?” Some families call that “follow through.” Others call it “character formation.”
People with “follow through” are precious in a church. Because you never have to worry about them. It will be done on time. And it will be done well. In a world where you’ve got to worry about many, you don’t have to worry about them. I can’t tell you what that means to somebody like me. And if I tried telling you, you wouldn’t understand. Because you don’t do what I do for a living. And you don’t wake up at three o’clock in the morning….most mornings….and go through the entire laundry list of tasks for the day (yours and everybody else’s)…..wondering who you have to check up on, which staff members you have to prod, and which parishioners you have to birddog. But I am one of the lucky ones. I can get back to sleep. That’s because I know that most of you are not only as good as your word, but better.
Not that you always felt like it. Or that I always felt like it, either. But that’s what’s so wonderful about promises made and kept. They help us ride the rapids of feelings….which are notoriously fickle and seasonal. Let me clue you in on something. You’re not always going to be “up” for everything….or everybody.
By the time next Saturday rolls around, I will have performed ten weddings in the month of October. Which is too many. I’ll be the first to admit it. Thanks to Dick Cheatham and the preparatory classes he is teaching, I have increased confidence that we are doing the prep work with integrity. And now that we’ve fleshed out the staff, we need to broaden out the work.
But whether ten is two too many, four too many or six too many, I don’t have the faintest idea. All I know is that I promised to do ten. So I am following through with ten. And I will work hard to do them well, quite apart from the degree to which I am “into” any particular one of them. I may have told you this before. But a few minutes before any wedding, I stand back in the sacristy and take a few moments to center myself. And, in those moments, I say something like this.
Ritter, that couple doesn’t know that they are your 43rd wedding this year. Nor do they know that you had to cut short some other activity to get dressed and come down here. They don’t know that your mind may be on your sermon (in its last two pages)….or the Michigan game (in its last two minutes).
Ritter, this is not about you. This is about them. And if you do this right….and if they do this right….this is the only wedding they are ever going to have. Besides, if you really believe all that stuff about men leaving their mamas, cleaving to their wives and becoming one flesh (which is a marvelous symbol, not to mention one heck of a lot of fun), then God is in the middle of whatever it is you are getting ready to go out there and do. So suck it up and get with the program.
And it works. Every single time. If I do what I promised to do (even on Saturdays when I don’t feel like doing it), maybe they’ll do what they are promising to do (on days when they don’t feel like doing it, either).
Because they won’t, you know. Always feel like it, I mean. And what will sustain them then? You know what darn well what will sustain them then. The promise. That’s what will sustain them then.
Some mornings you bounce out of bed….put your hand to your wrist….take the pulse of your feeling for your spouse….and find it to be incredible. It flows. It surges. It’s barely containable in the skin. You count upwards of 200-300 beats per minute. Other mornings you reach for the same wrist….search for the same pulse….checking out your feeling for the same spouse. And it’s barely discernable. You search the other pulse points (neck, temple, elbow). You can’t find one. Does that mean that it’s dead between you?
No, it just means that you get up and work a little harder at being married. Not at raising a pulse. The pulse will take care of itself….if you work at the marriage part. Some days marriage is a felt activity. Other days, marriage is a willed activity. But if you continue to will it when you don’t feel it, feeling usually returns. I’ll never forget the woman who said to her husband: “Some days, John, I stay married to you because I can’t resist you. Other days, I stay married to you because I said I would.”
But here’s where I want to suggest a little shift in your thinking. I have been talking about making and keeping promises as if doing so were a task….a job….a chore….a monumental effort. Which it will seem like to some of you, given your relative lack of experience. But let me depict it differently. Less like work. More like pleasure. Less like burden. More like blessing. I told you earlier that I have kept a lot of promises in my life. But it’s time for me to let you in on a little secret. It is the promises I have kept, that have kept me.
Some of you have heard me tell this story. If so, bear with me. If not, listen up. A prospective member in one of my churches once asked: “Of what advantage is joining your church? What will I get that I can’t get now? What will I be able to do, that I can’t do now?” And I wished I could have offered him a toaster, a clock radio, or four seats on the center aisle for the 9:30 service on Easter Sunday. But I couldn’t. In point of fact, I couldn’t offer him anything. Pretty much everything he could do as a member, he could do as a non-member. At least in my church. That’s because I’m not into line drawing or gate keeping.
As a non-member, he can worship here….work here….study here….sing here. He can join any group. He can take any class. He can sing in any choir. What’s more, I’ll marry his daughter, baptize his grandkid, bury his mother-in-law, or visit his sick neighbor (in the event he should ask). And it would never occur to me to withhold from his lips, the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.
“Well,” he said, “that being the case, why don’t I just go on like I’ve been going on? I’ll sit in your pew. I’ll shake your hand at the door. I’ll put my dues in your plate.” Whereupon I did remind him that membership would open a couple of doors to him. Without it, he would never be able to become a Trustee or get himself elected as president of the United Methodist Women. But the world is not beating down any doors for Trustee positions. And I don’t know three persons out of 3,000 who want to be president of the United Methodist Women. So none of this was likely to cut much ice. Which was when the Spirit pulled that little chain that hangs from the light bulb in my head, leading me to say: “Let me put it to you this way.”
Once upon a time….July 2, 1966….along about five past three….I was standing (fit to kill) at the head of a very long aisle in Dearborn. Looking around the room, it seemed as if there were 5,000 to the left of me and 5,000 to the right of me. When the organ swelled, virtually every last one of those 10,000 people stood. And as she moved down the aisle….radiantly alive and headed in my general direction….I said to myself: “Wow! This isn’t just hanging out with Kristine Larson anymore.” Which it wasn’t. But you know what? That promise….made that day….to that lady….has (in large part) made me.
Whereupon, I went on to say to my quizzical friend: “I think joining the church is a little like that. You can hang out with the Lord and the Lord’s friends forever. But if you are anything like me, it is the ‘yesses’ you say….to the things that matter most….that wind up making all the difference.”
You know, it amazes me when I think of all the things I don’t know (still don’t) about marriage….fatherhood….friendship….membership in the Church of Jesus Christ….Jesus Christ….the ministry….my previous three churches….this church. Yet, that’s my life. Right there. In a nutshell. Take away those things and there’s nothing left. Or not much left. I have given my life to such as these (“Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the church”). What’s more, I’ve gotten it back.
* * * * *
There is popular wisdom out there which says: “Never promise anybody anything.” Don’t believe it, dear friends. Don’t believe it.
Robert Frost ends his signature poem with the lines:
For I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep.
The implication being that, on the day you stop keeping promises, you’ll run out of mile
Note: This sermon launched First Church’s annual stewardship campaign, bearing the title“Know the Spirit, Keep the Promise.” Prior to reading the texts, I talked about the word “promise” in scripture. More often than not, it appears as a noun. It refers to the promise (or promises) of God. Far fewer are the times that it occurs as a verb. Yet the entire body of biblical literature suggests a tension between the promises God makes and the promises we break.
Prior to the sermon, I read (and commented on) God’s initial promise to Abraham, given that Paul considers that promise to be the critical covenant of the Hebrew Bible, subsequently fulfilled in Jesus Christ (II Corinthians 1:20). Then I read the portion of Ephesians 5 dealing with husbands loving wives as Christ loves the church. My purpose was to lift up a paradigm of promise keeping that would link the institutions of matrimony and membership. Thus, I was able to set a stage for the “marriage material” that followed in the sermon itself.
