From June 2-9, I attended CREDO, the program sponsored by the Church Pension Fund. It was great. I wrote about it in the posting for the Feminist Theology blog. In this piece, I am both critical of the leadership of the Episcopal Church and laudatory about the Pension Fund -- kind of a funny position for a feminist, or an ordained one. So if it doesn't run, I'll post it here. Here's my sermon for the Sunday before I went away ...

Proper 4; Pentecost 3-A
June 1, 2008, St. Paul’s
Genesis 6: 9-22; 7:24; 8:14-19
Ps. 31
Romans 3:21-25a, 28
Matthew 7: 21-29

As a child, I always liked these stories. What vivid images of danger and safety are evoked from the story of faithful Noah building the ark. And then the story of the two houses on a beach – the same beach as setting for a story from the Arabian nights, where a man through a bottle containing a genie into the sea …

This story of the two houses – one wisely built where it would not wash away, the other hastily thrown up where winds and floods would wash it away – is a metaphor for faith – and it seems to imply that faith in God is like building a house. Once you’ve got it built, you’re set for life. Once you’ve figured out your faith, likewise, you’re set for life.

Isn’t that Noah’s story? The story of faith set for life? The righteous and blameless Noah, who followed through on God’s preposterous command, to build a ship and load it up, two by two, with all the creatures of the earth?

I used to think that being grown up meant getting somewhere, having things all built, all set up, all organized. I would think that once I was grown up, I’d always have movers move me; I’d never have to rent a U-Haul again!!

Well, being grown up is no more about having it all figured out and all set than faith is about building a house. Yet that may not be what this gospel story is telling us. Faith is about living a life – and life is a journey of faith. Life is a journey in a crowded boat, with a mess of creatures not your friends or relations, setting off into a choppy and dangerous sea.

Well now, what do you mean, you might say. Noah walked with God, and Matthew says it all here: Jesus likes the wise person who has built a house on a rock: firm, solid, unchanging.

But there is another chapter in Matthew – chapter 25 – where Jesus uses the same dualism, the eternal life, eternal punishment consequence for behavior. Remember: “the king will say to those on his right hand, come, you blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom prepared from the foundation of the world.” And what is the mark of those blessed ones? They fed the hungry, visited the sick and imprisoned, gave drink to the thirsty and shelter to the needy.

And this from chapter 25 – practically the same phrases as in today’s gospel: “Then he will say to those on his left hand, Depart from me, you cursed, into the everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” The cursed are the ones who turned away from the needy and destitute – perhaps because they were so concerned to get their lives all organized and set, that they did not hear what Jesus was really saying.

The gospel of Matthew really emphasizes choice, judgment, either-or. Jesus in the gospel of Matthew doesn’t let us just slide by on our laurels; Jesus calls us to act, to make decisions at every step along the way. If faith is about building a house on a rock, it’s a house that is never finished. It’s a life full of surprises, changes, new challenges and opportunities all along the way. There will always be one more hungry person – and a choice to be made about whether to take care of this one or pass by.

In the words of an old hymn, Jesus calls us o’ve the tumult of our lives wild, restless sea. Noah knew that call and followed it, preposterous as it may have seemed. Jesus calls us not to success but to faithfulness, to faith-full-ness, to a life lived fully and faith-fully, choosing and deciding and listening to what Jesus is saying all along the way.