“Measuring One’s Spiritual Temperature”
John 1:35-39, 43-50
October 2, 1994
A friend tells the story about his wife, who was a member of her local school board. The board voted to have a silent auction. They wanted to raise funds for a library. Members of the board began volunteering various services which were to be offered to the highest bidder. One person who was a banker volunteered to examine investment portfolios. Another said her spouse was a lawyer and would donate one hour of free legal advice. Another couple offered to act as a waiter and maid for a party. When it came to this woman’s turn, there was a noticeable pause. Everyone knew she was the wife of a clergyperson. In a very matter-of-fact way, she said her husband would be glad to give an assessment of a person’s spiritual condition
This offer was greeted with a burst of laughter. Somehow it seemed absurd to mention (in a normal setting) that people have a spiritual temperature, much less to suggest the possibility of assessing spiritual conditions just as we assess investment policies or the way we should stand legally or the way we have eye exams.
This morning, at the risk of incurring your laughter, I will attempt to provide you with some tools to measure your spiritual temperature. I do this because I believe strongly that this hour on Sunday is to be more than simply a time of listening to magnificent music or a sermon. Sundays are days when we can listen deeply to our spiritual lives, to the voice that is calling us out of the depths of our souls to the Christ calling us to be followers of the way.
So the question we are looking at is – where are you on the way? What is your spiritual temperature? What is the condition of your soul?
First, I would ask you to measure your spiritual temperature against The Great Commandment – the commandment to fully love God, your neighbor, and yourself. As a spiritual director, I’ve observed that when we have difficulty loving the people around us, it lowers our spiritual temperature. Parishioners sometimes come to me and want to talk about theological problems — problems with the Creed, the sacraments, the organization of the church. They are often disappointed when I shift the conversation and begin asking them how they feel about the person in the next pew, their neighbor. Or do they care about the person who sings off-key? Or what have they done lately about the homeless? Do they know what it means to love their God, their neighbors, and themselves?
There is a quiet, but unforgettable moment in Dostoevsky’s novel, The Brothers Karamazov, in whenh a woman comes to Father Zosima asking for help in recovering her lost faith. “How can I believe in God again?” she asks. “You must,” he says, ”learn to love. Try to love our neighbors – love the person next to you in church. Love them actively and unceasingly. And as you learn to love them more and more, you will be convinced of God, and the immortality of your soul,”
What an unexpected twist Dostoevsky gives to life in the spirit. Not first you must have faith, but rather first you must have love, and then you will have faith.
In this morning’s Gospel, the uninformed embryonic disciples ask a bunch of theological questions. And Jesus cuts through all the verbiage. He replies: “Come and see.” Come and let go of all your preoccupations. Come and link your life to those around you. Come and love, and your spiritual temperature will soar in ways you’ve never dreamed.
The second way we might measure our spiritual temperature or assess our spiritual condition is to put it up against The Great Commission. Episcopalians mostly seemed to have missed hearing The Great Commission – the commission to go into the world and to reach out to those not part of your immediate community – to go beyond our boundaries – to actively seek out those who are beyond our comfort zone and bring them into the Body of Christ.
Unfortunately, we have labeled all of that “Evangelism,” which in the Episcopal lexicon means a distasteful act done by some fringe groups like Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses, and is thought of as comparable to hunting for sheep. But is that so? Have we not trivialized The Great Commission? Have we not turned our backs because deep down inside we know the risk and are fearful of being embarrassed or resented? What would happen if we seriously took to inviting people to come see? (What then?)
One of my favorite authors is a Roman Catholic priest by the name of Michel Quoist. He wrote a long poem, which is more like a prayer. It has been a part of my meditations for many years. It serves, for me, as a springboard in measuring my own spiritual temperature. Let me share a few parts.
“Lord,” Quoist writes, ‘Why did you tell me to love all my brothers and sisters?
I have tried, but I come back to you frightened.
Lord, I was so peaceful at home, I was comfortably settled.
It was well-furnished, and I felt cozy.
But, you have discovered a breach in my defenses. You have forced me to open my door –
I did not know they were so near,
in the house, in the street, in this office, my neighbor, my colleague, my friend.
God, they are in the way, they are all over. There’s no room for me at home.”
“Don’t worry,” God says. “While people came in, I, your Father,
I, your God, slipped in among them.”
Measuring our spiritual condition is more than measuring how many times we have been to Church or how many times we have said our prayers. Measuring our spiritual temperature involves assessing how often we have let people into our hearts, how many times we have reached out, how many times we have said: “Come and see.”
Ultimately, that is the real test of our spiritual condition * the way we live – the way we link our lives to those around us the way we love.
Over and over again, the great religious teachers have said that we can never know God – be spiritually alive — have a mature faith-by sitting in our comfortable pews or by studying God or by not moving beyond where we find ourselves. As they say down south, “Let me stop preaching and start meddling.” Have any of you grown spiritually in the past six months? Have any of you gone beyond what you were taught as youngsters?
One problem is that we are content to be as we are. We laugh at people who are concerned with the state of our souls.
And therefore, when we hear the words: “Come and see,” we become as deaf persons or say to ourselves that Jesus must be directing the challenge to some people in beards and a bathrobe: in the Bible.
The invitation – the call – is to each one of us: “Come and see. Come and grow up to Christ. Come and raise your spiritual temperature so that you may be alive to The Great Commandment and The Great Commission.”
“Come my way – my truth, my life. Such a way as gives us breath.
Such a truth, as ends all strife.
Such a life, as killeth death. AMEN