January 18

January 18, 2009

In the Days of Giants and Heroes
a sermon on 1 Timothy 3.1-13
by David C. Mauldin
Westminster Presbyterian Church, Mobile, Alabama

In the winter of 1777-78, the American Republic was nearly stillborn. George Washington and his men were camped at Valley Forge, suffering through the privations of a terrible winter. They lacked adequate shelter. They lacked adequate clothing, equipment, and food. They were starving and dying, and felt abandoned by the Congress. Many deserted. A general mutiny was feared.

Here is how one historian described the scene: “Bloody footprints in the snow left by bootless men. Near naked soldiers wrapped in thin blankets huddled around a smoky fire of green wood. The plaintive chant from the starving: ‘We want meat! We want meat!’ These are the indelible images of suffering and endurance associated with Valley Forge in the winter of 1777-78. ‘An army of skeletons appeared before our eyes naked, starved, sick and discouraged,’ wrote New York’s Gouverneur Morris of the Continental Congress. The Marquis de Lafayette wrote: ‘The unfortunate soldiers were in want of everything; they had neither coats nor hats, nor shirts, nor shoes. Their feet and their legs froze until they were black, and it was often necessary to amputate them.’” [Ron Avery, www.ushistory.org]

Numbers are hard to pin down with accuracy, but of the 11,000 or so troops camped at Valley Forge for the winter, possibly 2,500 died. The soldiers suffered frostbite. They ate horses when they could. Somehow, General Washington kept his army together. Equally impressively, he kept himself together. Tempted to give up, he did not. His strength and resolved inspired others. Could the army have stayed together without his example? Could he have kept going without the resolve and spirit of his men?

Not only did they keep going, it was that hard winter that galvanized Washington’s rag-tag army into real soldiers. Despite the circumstances, Washington drilled his men and improved their discipline, so that when supplies became plentiful again, they were a formidable fighting force.

There are moments in history that turn ordinary men and women into heroes and heroes into giants. For America, the winter at Valley Forge was one of those. Those who survived, and later won their war, were rightly proud of their suffering. To say, “I was at Valley Forge,” surpassed any medal or honor. In fact, their descendants could point back with pride, as some still do today, “my great, great—however many greats—grandfather was a Valley Forge.” For Valley Forge was a severe testing. There were no mere men in that dread winter. There were only cowards or heroes. It was impossible to be anything else. Some moments in history are like that.

I believe our day is just such a time for the church. We are raising the first generation of American Christians who will find their faith, their values, and their morality—not reinforced—but attacked at every point by their culture. It is not simply that ours was once a church-going nation, and it is not anymore. That’s far too simplistic. Rather, once upon a time Christian values informed our culture, but this is no longer the case. Our culture has a different way of looking at nearly everything. Everything from what is the highest good and what should I live for, to how do I know the difference between right and wrong, to who am I, and even how can I know anything at all. Our culture not only respectfully disagrees with our faith, it tells us our faith is something small and private that really doesn’t matter much.

I have preached before and often about the seismic shifts in American culture over the past couple of generations. I don’t need to go into detail here. You know it anyway, because you have experienced it. Although we in the Deep South have been sheltered from its effects far more than most places, our day is coming, in fact it is here. A culture that was once a comfortable home for Christians has become alien and hostile. The church will endure. It always does. But how strong will it emerge?

The transition from what we were to what we will be is sure to be a rough ride, and you and I are living in it! This is an age of heroes and giants. In such a time as this, there can be no small Christians, no ordinary Christians. Not when even the church itself—and our denomination is typical—has become confused about basic Christian truth. What is our message? That God affirms each of us as we are, and so we do not need transformation; all we need is be nice people? Or that God loves us in spite of our sin, Christ died for us, and he comes to transform us into a beautiful new creation? The church has lost the credibility to speak meaningfully to the things that matter most, like sexuality, even if it could articulate a clear message. The culture is lost, the church is adrift, and it is as if we have been transported back to the first century, when the New Testament was being written.

Today, God calls us to faithful service. He calls us to be saints and heroes, and perhaps he will raise up a giant or two among us. One thing is certain: Nobody sits on the bench and doesn’t play. Nobody gets a free pass or an easy ride. For all of us the choice is either to desert our post and fail in our calling or to become a saint and a hero. In the Book of the Revelation, our Lord threatened to spew the church at Laodicea out of his mouth because they were neither hot nor cold, just lukewarm. Like them, we do not have the luxury of a complacent discipleship. To be lukewarm—a casual Christian—is now impossible. We are either hot or cold. Jesus calls us to commitment and great sacrifice. You will either let him down—he who gave his life for you—or you will become a saint and a hero.

“Wait a minute,” I can hear you thinking. “That all sounds OK, except I am no saint or hero. I don’t have it in me. I’m not made of that kind of stuff. I’d love to be a saint and/or a hero, but I don’t think it’s realistic.” I suspect you have that concern, and I understand it. I feel the same way. I’m not made of the stuff of saints or heroes. Or are we? Let me tell you what a hero is. A hero is someone who says, “I just did what I had to do.”

In my work as a pastor, I have been privileged to talk with several decorated war heroes. They all said basically the same thing. They didn’t set out to be heroes. They just did what they had to do. In extraordinary circumstances, the still did what they felt they had to do. “I just did my duty,” they say. And that’s what made them heroes.

Saints too. Do you know what a saint is? A saint is a person who loves God more than anything else and tries to live that way. Ironically, the holier a person becomes, the more keenly aware that person becomes of the need for God’s grace. “I’m no saint,” they all say, “I need grace more than anyone.” And it is true. God’s grace is the only hope any of us have. Once you taste his grace, however, and it arouses within you a passionate love for God, you will never be content with being a pew sitter or a nice person.

The occasion for all this talk about heroes and saints is the ordination and installation of a new class of officers. The church does not need caretakers. The church needs heroes, saints, and giants. If anyone aspires to leadership in the church, he or she desires a noble task. Our scripture reading is about the kind of person who ought to take the lead in the church. If you think the qualifications—sensible, temperate, peaceable, respectable—describe the opposite of a hero (who ought to be daring and forceful), then you do not understand what a true hero is. The hero is not reckless; the hero, rather, rises to the occasion and meets the need of the hour. This passage describes the kind of steady, committed person who can handle the demands of leadership over the long haul and lead the church through dark days.

I don’t know about you; I’ve almost never heard this passage preached. It opens several cans of worms, and that’s one thing we preachers avoid if we can. A host of issues confront us in this passage, to which no one has definitive answers. Let me just point them out and then get on to the heart of the passage.

One issue is: Who or what is an overseer? Our pew Bibles translates the Greek word episcopos with the word bishop. “A bishop must be above reproach …” That’s a fair translation, because episcopos means “overseer,” but it is unlikely Paul had in mind what we mean by the word bishop today. Presbyterians have traditionally understood this to mean pastors, and I think it does, but we may broaden the meaning just a bit to include elders. The Good News Version translates it as “church leaders,” and it may be on to something. In any case, there is nothing here about elders otherwise, and we know Paul had them appointed in his churches.

Another issue is this business of one wife. Does it mean the overseer must be a man? That he must be married—no singles need apply? Does it only forbid polygamy? Or does it bar men who were widowed or divorced and then remarried? These are tough questions. I think the best approach is to take this verse as a call to marital faithfulness. Our church constitution calls officers to adhere to the standard Christ gave to all Christians: chastity in singleness or faithfulness in the covenant of marriage between one man and one woman. I think that says it all.

Still another issue is about women. We know the first century church had women deacons. Phoebe was one at Rome, and Paul knew her because he mentions her in his letter to the Romans [16.1]. So when verse 11 starts talking about “the women,” does it mean the wives of deacons, as is often assumed? Or female deacons? Or what? I can see how it might be about spouses, because the spouse of an elder or deacon reflects on the officer and the church. But it also makes sense to me as a special word to female deacons. I am not sure figuring this out is crucial to the main point of the passage, however. Obviously our church ordains women. We will do so today. And we do so for one reason only: because we have gone back to scripture and found warrant and precedent for the practice. Early on the church came to be dominated by male clergy, but in the ministry of Jesus and in the New Testament churches, women played an active role, including leadership.

So what does this passage tell us that is so important. Three quick things, the stuff heroes are made of:
1. Character counts. Over and over the passage warns against greed for money and the tendency to drink too much. It also calls for leaders who are temperate and self-controlled. I see a common thread here. There are things in this world that can take control of you. They take control of your heart, your mind; you actions are no longer yours. Love of money and alcoholism are just two examples. We could list others, including pornography, drugs, and chronic gambling. A church leader is not controlled by these sorts of things. Instead he or she masters temptation and uses the good gifts God has given in ways that honor God. No one expects our leaders to be sinless; but we do expect them to be in control. Character counts, and our leaders must be steady and true. Being a hero starts with being dependable.
2. Truth matters, so knowledge of the truth matters. The overseer is supposed to be an apt teacher, and deacons are to hold the mysteries of the faith with good conscience. That means our leaders know the Christian faith and they believe it sincerely. They should know what we believe and why, and be able to explain it to any who might ask, especially our children. Our leaders must know Jesus Christ. They must have experienced God’s grace. They must know what the faith is in terms of both the teachings of Christianity and what it means to live the Christian life. And, not just our leaders—all of us, every one. You may not be called to be a leader, but you are called to be a saint and a hero. Leaders, you are called to be giants. And if you feel inadequate because you do not know enough, do something about it.
3. Humility or else. Leaders are humble. Heroes and saints too. “I am just answering God’s call.” “I am only doing my duty.” “I saw a need and did something about it.” This is the attitude of a Christian leader. Good leaders never point at themselves or seek glory. They seek to glorify God alone. The passage warns against placing a new Christian in a position of leadership. The danger is pride. Pride is a deadly snare. If you want to be a saint, a hero, or a leader, don’t try to be any of those things. Just set your mind on loving God more than anything else, doing your duty, and serving others in his name. He takes care of the rest.

In conclusion, do not entertain any fantasy that you can get by with the least possible sacrifice. These times and our Lord will not permit it. Yours is the choice between betrayal and failure or heroism and sainthood. Whether you are called to ordained or leadership or not, you are called to greatness. These are the days of heroes and giants. May God give you the grace and strength to stand strong, and may those who come after us find we have been faithful. Amen.

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