BEGGING FOR A LIFE WORTHY

1. A Life Is Only Worth The Change To Which We Have Been Called
I can’t remember a time when I’ve really begged for anything. Like most of you, I have been raised in the United States, where we earn our way and where we usually will get what we pay for. And yet, there is something for which the apostle Paul begs and something for which you and I must beg this morning at Latah Valley. What could it be?

“Listen to me,” says Jean Valjean. In the Broadway musical, Les Miserables, a mysterious man has gone from stealing bread, escaping from prison and then rising to the rank of mayor in a small French village. Eventually, however, the law catches up to Jean Valjean. Lieutenant Javert tracks him down, saying that “a man such as you can never change.” But in response, Jean Valjean offers this compromise. He will go with Javert peacefully, but he needs three days, three days to intercede for a young girl, named Cosette, whose mother has recently died. “Listen to me,” says the fugitive, masquerading as an upstanding citizen. “Listen to me. (I beg you.) There is something I must do.”

Listen to me. There is something I must do. Listen to me. I beg you. Please tell me, there is something I must do. And, you see, if you ask me today about my experience in begging for food, for money or for mercy, I will have nothing to say. But if you ask me about my experience of begging God for purpose, for guidance and direction—well, where we start?
“I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called.”

And the first thing we need to know about this remark is that Paul, like Jean Valjean, has been incarcerated. Being in jail, I think, helps. Or, at least being restricted or being limited by certain circumstances helps us when it comes to begging for divine intervention. And it also helps us in our God-directed relationships with other people. “I beg you,” says the apostle. I can’t mandate that you lead a worthy life. I can’t pay you for it. And so, I beg you.
In the 1984 film, Tender Mercies, Mac Sledge and Rosa Lee’s ten year old child, Sonny, are baptized. It happens fairly quickly in a modest church in Texas. And on the way home, in the pick-up truck, Sonny blurts out his question: “Mac, do you feel different?” The former country singer, who lost everything to his abuse of alcohol, looks around nervously until he answers, “Not yet.” But then, all three of them, Mac, Sonny and Rosa Lee, break out in laughter. Something has happened, but they’re not sure how it’s changed them. Not yet. And what they’ve done—and what you and I are called to do—is invest in the possibility and the hope of that change.

According to Ephesians 4, a life is only worth the change to which we have been called in and through Jesus Christ. And so, if we read the Bible and sing the songs and if we say to one another that we believe in this stuff, what good is it if we are not changed by those practices. In the story of Tender Mercies, for example, Mac gets back on his feet again and begins to play music; he plays, not to make money or to impress the crowds like before his baptism, but to get closer to Sonny and Rosa Lee. And when he’s invited back into the limelight, when he has a chance to make it big in Nashville all over again, when he might as well get involved in the kind of shenanigans that made him abuse alcohol, he chooses the change to which he’s been called. In other words, he leads. He chooses to sacrifice financial gain and stardom and to replace those desires with the integrity of loving a child and his mother faithfully. He leads a life worthy.

2. The Unity of the Spirit Requires Our Exhaustive Effort
Listen up, Latah Valley. I beg you. Make “every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” Does that sound like fun? Does that sound like a dazzling life? Does that sound like something sacred that might be worth your while? I think it is. In fact, after a careful consideration of the options, I believe that “the unity of the Spirit” is THE supreme goal to which each one of us has been called upon to devote everything that’s been given to us.
We were building a Habitat for Humanity house in North Carolina. All week we had worked extremely hard with limited abilities and limited resources, and on this final afternoon, a group of us stood on a wobbly platform that had been precariously placed atop two rickety wooden horses. So, we lifted this final piece of drywall in the air and pushed it over our heads while the one skilled laborer in our ranks screwed it in. It would be the last thing we would do to the glory of God, and our part in the construction of that home would be complete. Anyway, as the last screw was going in, the wooden horses beneath the platform collapsed and all of us—as one clumsy body—fell to the floor. And we fell hard. We fell in such a way that one young woman had to be taken to the emergency room. And in the aftermath of that crunch of exhausted bodies, during the little worship service we hosted in a humid chapel, I waited. I waited for the complaints and for the controversy about safe working environments. But this is all I heard: “We are one in the Spirit. We are one in the Lord. And we pray that all unity may one day be restored.”

You see, whether we realize it in the moment or not, the unity of the Spirit requires our exhaustive effort. In Ephesians 4:3, we don’t read about dabbling. We don’t hear the apostle Paul encouraging us to volunteer what time and what money we have left over. He says, “make every effort…” Every effort.

3. When There Appear To Be Too Many Choices, Seek The Oneness
A little bit later we are going to baptize Mikel Jonelle Allen. She will be baptized in the creek, and we’re going to do it by getting her all wet, entirely saturated, uttered soaked. Now, just to keep everyone well-informed, we don’t have to do it this way. In fact, when it comes to the method of baptism, there appear to be many, too many, choices. Presbyterians, for example, have traditionally sprinkled people with a little bit of water on the top of the head. Other denominations settle decisively on full immersion but then worry about whether a person ought to be dunked facing forward or facing backward.
Choices. Choices. Choices. What are we going to do with all of these major life decisions?

Mikel, in the interest of full disclosure, I need to inform you that as of next week, Latah Creek may run red. That’s right. According to a staff report printed in yesterday’s Spokesman Review, the Washington State Department of Ecology plans to use florescent dye to learn how quickly the water moves through the creek. So, we’re just getting you in before the water runs red. Is this the right choice? Do you still want to do this?

Before you answer, I’d like to point out that one of the first people to do this in the Jordan River ended up being crucified to death. Is this the right choice? Of course, I have also heard from reliable sources that when Jesus was raised out of the water, he saw something like a dove, fluttering around his shoulder, and he heard a voice, echoing from the clouds above. And the voice said, You are loved. I am pleased with you.

So, maybe in spite of the risks, this is the right choice. Maybe, a long time ago, God made the decision. And now, when there appear to be too many choices, all we have to do is seek the oneness. I beg you. I can’t make you. I can’t force you. I can cajole you. And so, I beg you. Live out this sentence:
“There is one body, and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”