Dr. William A. Ritter
First United Methodist Church, Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: 1 John 1:1-4
Note: This is the third and final sermon of a stewardship campaign built upon Paul’s word in I Thessalonians 5:19: “Hold fast to what is good.” The campaign theme is “Don’t Let Go.” As is the custom at First Church, the campaign is visually and creatively imaged throughout the building….this time by a series of ropes. Some of the ropes are coiled and hung from various pillars, while others are stretched taut, crossing the sanctuary in decorative array from balcony to pulpit.
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“So what’s with the ropes?” That’s what he wanted to know a week ago Saturday night when, as a visitor from another church, he attended the Composer Festival concert in our sanctuary. And he wasn’t alone. There were a lot of outsiders here that evening and, to a person, they were intrigued by the ropes. Several concluded that the ropes were liturgical and tried to make a connection between the configuration of the colors and the seasons of the church year. One fellow literally bubbled over with excitement, claiming that he had “figured it out” by counting 13 ropes descending from the corner of the balcony to the crown of the pulpit. “I know what that means,” he said. “It means Jesus and the 12 disciples.” While a few, knowing our church’s reputation for creativity and artistic design, knew that there had to be a connection between the ropes they were viewing and the pledges we are seeking, but they didn’t know what it was. And then there was one man from a small, struggling church who said (in tones literally dripping with depression): “I just wish our little church could raise what these ropes cost.”
When it became clear that we were going to feature ropes this year, I was of two minds. On one hand, I liked the initial word associations that accompanied “ropes”….words like “rugged,” “strong,” “durable” and “outdoorsy,” coupled with visual images like tugging and climbing, tying and connecting. Picturing ropes, I could see tents standing tall, sheets drying on a sunny day, water skiers crisscrossing the wake, and camping gear lashed to the roof of an SUV.
But I also realized that I knew next to nothing about ropes. I probably own one, but I can’t tell you where it is. And upon finding it, I wouldn’t be able to tell you much about using it. As a kid, it was my job to string the clothesline for my mother. But we have a dryer now. I last water skied at age 50 (brilliantly, I might add), whereupon I retired from it, having proved to my daughter I could still do it. As a Scouter, I passed on the merit badge for knots. And to this day (except for Sunday mornings, funerals and weddings, when Kris tells me I need to look the part), I don’t wear tie shoes, much preferring loafers instead. What’s more, as rope sports go, I’m not into lashing, lassoing, sailing, rappelling, or even tug-of-warring. So I said to myself: “This should be interesting.”
Actually, let me dispel several myths quickly. First, any liturgical connections are purely accidental. Nobody thought of “Jesus and the 12 disciples” when hanging the 13 ropes. Nor did anybody check the ropes’ colors against the church’s seasons. And as for costs, there weren’t many. People have said: “Can we have the ropes when you’re done with them?” Some of you have even offered to buy them. Be my guest. Just don’t do anything serious (or dangerous) with them. They are less than meets the eye. We didn’t get them from an outdoor outfitter’s store. We got them from Home Depot. Cheap. Meaning, don’t entrust your life to them. They may not hold.
They are symbols. They don’t represent anything. Much of their meaning is in what you bring to them, or the associations you make with them.
Biblically, rope is used to draw carts (Isaiah 5:18)….to haul stones (II Samuel 17:13)….to bind prisoners (Judges 16:11)….and to rig boats (Acts 27:32). Israeli potters made designs by pressing ropes against wet clay. And, of course, ropes were essential to fishnets, meaning that they figured in many stories involving Jesus and the disciples.
To me, ropes suggest ways we tie things down (as in “securing”) and tie things together (as in “connecting”). They also suggest the art of ascending (as in “climbing with ropes”), as well as the art of familiarizing (as in “learning the ropes”).
Nobody is going to go home with a rope today. Neither is anyone going to get one in the mail tomorrow. But you are going to get a caribiner (the name of which I could neither recognize nor spell two months ago). Caribiners and ropes go together. I am told that everybody under 40 knows that, but that very few over 40 know that.
Look closely. This is a caribiner. So is this. And this. And this. They make great key chains. But that’s not what they’re made for. Consider them all-purpose connectors. They connect gear to gear….or gear to you….or you to rope….or you to almost anything. They come in shapes known as “oval,” “pear,” “bentgate,” and “straightgate” (the gate being the part of the caribiner that opens). This one lights up in the dark and tells you what time it is (I kid you not). While this one has a miniature boombox inside, complete with a two-position volume switch and a micro-music clip that plays the songs of ’N Sync. Every kid in the church is going to want this one when I’m done. Suffice it to say, if there is something you want to hold on to, you need a caribiner (which isn’t in the Bible)….or a healthy dosage of faith (which is).
“Interesting,” say some of you. “Who cares?” say others of you. Well, let me resort to all of this paraphernalia to make a couple of very simple points. The first is about connecting. The second, about joy riding. Start with “connecting.”
If you haven’t gotten clear about “connecting,” you have either slept in or slept during the last two Sundays. “Don’t let go,” says the theme. “Hold fast to that which is good,” says the Bible. “Hold on to dear life” (not for dear life, but to it), said yours truly in a sermon two Sundays ago. “Carry the treasure” (albeit in fragile and fallible hands), said yours truly last Sunday. “Blest be the tie that binds,” we shall sing (momentarily) this Sunday. Could it be any clearer….this business about connection, I mean?
We are not meant to be disconnected. And to whatever degree we are, we can’t live that way. In one of Jesus’ more graphic analogies, he compared himself to a vine and us to the branches. Which he followed by saying (in effect): “You know what happens when vines and branches get separated, don’t you? I’ll tell you what happens. No fruit. No raisins. No grape jelly. No grape jam. No grape juice. No wine for the table. No wine for the soul, either. None of the above. Disconnected.”
I got an e-mail from Betty Breedlove the other day. The Breedloves are down in Brazil where Dave is fiddling with Ford trucks and Betty is, at the moment, grieving the loss of her mom (who was laid to rest just a few weeks ago….concerning which, she writes):
I am doing well. But I still catch myself a bit misty-eyed when I talk about Mother. The Brazilians have a word for this feeling….“saudade.” I read that the word means a yearning or longing for someone (or something) who isn’t with you….the aching feeling you have when you miss a lover, a friend, your family, or a place. The Portuguese language is full of words to express feelings, and this feeling is very strongly felt by Brazilians. When spoken, the word “saudade” conveys far more feeling than when we say “missing you” in English.
I have “saudades” for my mother, my dad, Cortney and Brian, my many friends, and my church. The other day, I clicked on the church website. I think God made me do it. As you know, I don’t do it often because it makes me cry. Anyway, I read your letter in Steeple Notes with many tears because there is another side to the question of finding churches. What if there is no choice? Here in Salvador, Janet McGuinness and I searched for a couple of months for a church with a service in English, but there was none….zero….zip….in a city of two million. We did try a couple of services in Portuguese but, when you don’t know much of the language, it’s not the same. At least the Catholic church had most of the service written out in its bulletin. We felt so blessed when we met John Shepherd and he agreed to offer a service in English, if only twice a month. By the way, we have added two more families and now boast 20 lusty voices singing from the Methodist hymnals you sent down.
I doubt if many churches in the world can compare with FUMC. First Church offers so much in programming and services (along with a great building in which to house them). But, most of all, it offers wonderful people….truly a church family to grow and share with, ensuring that one will not be alone. Like losing a mother, I don’t think anyone understands the “saudades” until she is gone. For me, it is the same with First Church. I wish you and the church much success in this year’s EMC campaign. When people read your words “give yourself fully to this church while you have it,” I hope they take them to heart. As I said, what if the day comes when there is no choice?
Well, if that doesn’t move you, I don’t know what will. So when you receive your caribiner, think Betty in Brazil….think vines and branches….think Jesus and the church. In short, think “connection.”
And when you think about the ropes, think “joy riding.” I know I am pushing you here. You have already thought “tugging and tying, climbing and rappelling, skiing and sailing.” Now I want you to lift your sights. I mean, I really want you to lift your sights. Like into the trees. Three weeks ago, Damian Zikakis….our resident tenor, Finance Committee leader, youth counselor, Wednesday morning study group attender, and all-around good guy….wrote to us about recreational tree climbing. He told us about ropes, harnesses, helmets, caribiners, and an 80-foot elm tree in his back yard. Today, Damian can scale the tree.…swing through the tree….sleep in the tree….even hang upside down from the tree. Next, he’ll want to take Patti, Alex and Sam to Judson Collins Methodist Camp where they have a ropes course. Today, every camp has a ropes course. You can’t run a successful camp without a ropes course. Ask your kids. They’ll tell you. Where, with good leadership….good training….good equipment….and good group support, you can both scale trees and swing from tree to tree. But it gets even better. If the ropes course has a zip line, you can ride it (from high in the tree) clean over a pond….a river….even a small lake. It’s not everybody’s thing. But it can be a wonderful thing.
And if, as Damian suggests, this is somehow a paradigm for the journey of discipleship, it suggests that your spiritual journey ought to provide experiences like this. You are meant to climb….meant to soar….meant to see glimpses of forever….and meant to relish the ride. Sometimes I fear that I spend so much time telling you how demanding the Christian life is, that I forget to tell you how rewarding the Christian life is. To whatever degree I have left that confusion in anyone’s mind, I am profoundly sorry. As the author of 1 John testifies: “We have this fellowship with the Father and the Son, Jesus Christ. And we want you to have it, too. Not because misery loves company. But so that our joy might be complete.”
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Well, that’s my sermon and I’m sticking to it. Except for this, by way of addition….the only connection being the word “ride.” It concerns a little girl and her mother who, for years, made a weekly trip to Meijers Thrifty Acres for groceries. Each time they made the trip, the daughter’s good behavior was rewarded with a ride on the mechanical pony named Sandy. Lots of you know Sandy. And each time the mother gave the daughter two coins, even though she took but one ride. After the ride was over, the mother lifted her off the pony and the child carefully placed the second coin on top of the coin box. Then she said a sweet “goodbye” to the pony, stroked his plaster mane, and cheerfully walked away.
One day an elderly woman sitting on a bench stopped the girl and said: “Child, you’ve left your money there.” “I know,” said the little girl. “I always leave some there. It’s for the people who don’t have any money for the ride.” Bewildered, the woman asked: “But how do you know the money will go to someone who really needs it?” Not at all discouraged by the woman’s question, she replied: “I just do.”
But really, does it matter who gets the leftover money? I think not. Why not? Because I know that little girl. And I am here to tell you that she is turning into a truly beautiful human being. Funny, isn’t it, how generosity can do that to a person?
