Belonging Without Believing
Mark 1: 9-13
February 20, 1994
The young man stood at the bank of the river. He was in his early 30s and wearing a clean white robe. It was a beautiful morning. The sun shone brightly. And there in the middle of the river, surrounded by members of the community, was his cousin. He beckoned the young man to come forward. And as the choir softly sang, the young man was plunged into the cold water with the words of repentance and new life said over him. It seemed as if the very heavens opened, and he thought he heard a voice saying: “This is my son with whom I am well pleased.”
Following this experience, the young man began going to all his friends and acquaintances announcing: “I am saved – I am saved! I’ve been baptized! Alleluia! I’m saved!” (Needless to say, this young man was not an Episcopalian.) In the ensuing weeks, he continued to tell whomever would listen that he was saved and belonged to the church, but little else seemed to change in his lifestyle. Finally, an old friend, a veteran of the faith, took the young man aside and said: “Saved from what? Saved for what? Until you can answer those questions, you’ve got the name, but not the game. You’re on the road, but you’re not going anywhere.”
Last Sunday, I began teaching a course on the Episcopal Church. I usually start by asking the group what they have heard about the Episcopal Church. Several years ago, someone replied: “The Episcopal Church is the only church you can join and still remain a practicing Atheist.”
Is it true? Can we belong without believing? Can we be baptized, go to Sunday School, be confirmed, and still be a non-believer?
As we begin our 40-day Lenten journey, let’s be honest – radically honest – painfully honest. You who are members of the church, have you ever felt that belonging and believing had much of a correlation? We in the church place great emphasis on belonging, but when it comes to believing, we usually say that’s a private concern too personal to share with others. Or maybe we’re modern Christians and say: “It doesn’t really matter at all – as long as you believe in something.”
One of the wisest men in our time, a sociologist from the University of Michigan by the name of Kenneth boulding, once wrote that many people have gone through three stages of what they believe in their religion.It colors time and life and their belief in believing. And finally, they simply belong without believing much in anything.
Many of us are in Stage 2 or 3. To use a Jewish term I just read last week, we are in a ‘bat kol existence. It’s a new term for me – it’s Hebrew. Now, in Jewish parlance, “Bat KoI” means an echo. Translates literally, it means “daughter of a voice.” You don’t hear the voice itself, you hear only the child of the voice – the echo of belief. And therefore, the echo doesn’t take hold in your life, change you, or make you a different person. We’ve got the name, but we don’t have a clue about the game. We’re Bat koI” people, and the crying shame is that we don’t think it matters to US or to God. But it does. The problem is that a belief cannot be second.-hand – cannot be an echo of your parent’s faith – cannot be a vague tolerance for everybody. A’ belief only comes about as we wrestle with God and the devil – as we struggle to find who we are and why we are here, as we turn our face down the road Jesus took.
Jesus went into the wilderness for 40 days. And he came out a new person. A different person. He came out knowing what he was made for. He came out heading down that lonesome road toward crucifixion.
Good people – we have been given 40 days to search, to wrestle, to probe into our beliefs. Some of you might recall I issued a challenge to bring an unbeliever to church. Now, this wasn’t to add another name to our roster. My hidden agenda is to place you in a position to wrestle with yours and someone else’s beliefs – to share with another your faith. Are you really buried with Christ in his death – or are you simply a mild echo of someone else’s belief? is what happens here on a Sunday morning simply collecting scalps, or does it speak to a living faith? Shaped lives – changed lives? A people prepared to walk hand in hand with their Lord?
I really wish there were an easy way to be a Christian. If the truth be known, I wish we could avoid going into the wilderness. It isn’t comfortable to wrestle with your beliefs, for it may lead you down difficult roads. It isn’t comfortable to spend 40 days reflecting on where you are and where God wants you to go. It’s not part of my comfort zone to dwell in the wilderness. The are no Holiday Inns or McDonald’s arches where Jesus goes after his Baptism. And so it is for us.
Lent – is a time of examination – a time of reflection, a time of wrestling – a time that we choose the road leading to crucifixion or to a more comfortable place. It isn’t good enough to belong to the church. It isn’t good enough to do a number of charitable acts, good deeds, acts of mercy. On the surface, you may look the part, but underneath, what you believe is as important as where you belong. Where you’re headed is as important as where you’ve been
Let me end this meditation by sharing a short passage that has haunted me for years. I offer it to you as you prepare to go into the 40-day wilderness. It comes from early Christian writings – from the monks who went out to live in the desert. Listen to it – meditate upon it – see if the story doesn’t stick with you throughout these 40 days.
“And when the darkness came over the earth, the old man, Joseph of Arimathaeus, passed down from the hill, into the Valley of Desolation. And there he saw a young man weeping. And he said to the young man: 1 do not wonder that your sorrow is so great, for surely he was a just man.”‘
“And the young man answered: it is not for him that I am weeping, but for myself. I, too, have been baptized by John; I have changed water into wine; and I have healed the leper and given sight to the blind. I have walked upon the waters, and have fed the hungry. All things that this man has done, I have done also. And yet – they have not crucified me.”‘ AMEN