The Kirkin is a grand day for our church. The Presbyterian Church has its roots
in Scotland, and it is right that we set aside a day to give thanks for our good
and godly heritage. We are always delighted to have the Scottish Society of
Mobile with us, folks who treasure their Scottish heritage. If you are a
Scot—even a wee bit—you ought to be proud. If you are not, you ought to be proud
of your heritage too, whatever it is. Today is Pentecost Sunday, and we know
that God’s love is as big as the whole world. No one nation or people has
exclusive right to consider themselves God’s people. God welcomes all people
into his family through Christ.
So today we celebrate our Scottish heritage, from which we have received such
blessings as representative democracy with checks and balances, high value
placed on education, respect for the Word of God, and bagpipes. We can have a
lot of fun. In February I attended the Burns Dinner the Scottish Society holds
every year, and it was wonderful: the clothing, the food, the music. Scots know
how to have a good time.
However, if you think it is all fun—or that nothing bad could come out of
Scotland—I warn you not to dig too deep into the history books. They are full of
treachery and bloodshed. I know the history of every nation is, but that is my
point. Even as we celebrate our heritage, we ought to examine it critically and
soberly, to see what we ought to hold on to and what we ought to let go of. I
have examples drawn from the history of Scotland, but what I want to say this
morning applies to everyone, no matter your heritage. Plus, I want to bring
things down to a more personal level. I want you to think not only of your
ethnic roots or your nationality, but of your family as well. My main idea is:
We are most loyal to our heritage when we love it critically, embracing the
good, rejecting the bad.
I want to make clear up front that I am not in any way passing judgment on our
ancestors. We have to assume they did their best, and nothing more can be
expected—from them or from us. We have no reason to think that just because
times are different now that we will be wiser or more faithful to God in our
context than they were in theirs. I am a father, and I hope that my son will
learn not only from my positive example but also from my mistakes. I hope he
will not have to make all the mistakes I make. Perhaps he can look at me and
discern a better way. I try to look at history the way I want my son to look at
me. I have deep respect, for example, for the old Scottish Covenanters and for
what they wanted to do. On February 28, 1638 the whole nation was invited to
sign a National Covenant. This in a time when common people had no voice in
anything. It basically confirmed the Presbyterian Church as the church of
Scotland and called for free parliaments and assemblies. It was modeled on the
covenant God made with Israel at Mount Sinai. The nobility signed it. The clergy
signed it. The people signed it, some of them in their own blood. They wanted to
make Scotland faithful to God in all things and a shining example to the world.
I think the Covenanters were too intolerant. I think political power corrupted
their Kirk. And at times they acted foolishly, as at the Battle of Dunbar when
they abandoned the high ground and recklessly attacked Cromwell’s army because
they expected God to slay “the Philistines.” They were right, and they were
wrong; and sometimes being right about one thing blinded them to where they were
wrong in another. I admire their zeal, but not everything they did.
When you love your roots, your country, your church, your family, you love it
all—the good and the bad. But you honor it and serve it by perpetuating the good
and rejecting the bad, to the best of your own ability. We are all blind. We are
all sinners saved by grace. We are all so broken that our only hope is God’s
grace. Nothing is more Presbyterian than that! So we trust in God’s mercy, and
we do our best.
When I read the history of Scotland, my heart often breaks. It breaks because I
love my heritage. Most of the time I understand why people did what they did (or
I think I do!), and I don’t think I could have done better. But still it is sad.
I think especially of the hostility between Protestants and Catholics, the
lowlands versus the highlands, and feuds among the clans. Jesus said we ought to
love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Through most of our
history, there has been far too much persecution and not nearly enough love and
prayer.
I have mentioned before that Westminster joins with St. Pius X Catholic Church
for worship just before Thanksgiving Day every year. Last year the service was
here and Father O’Conner preached. How do you suppose John Knox would have felt
about that? Or the Covenanters? The 17th century was an age of religious
intolerance. Scots killed one another over the issue of whether to have a
Protestant Church with bishops or a Protestant Church without bishops. Now, I
agree with them that that is an important issue, and of course a lot more went
into the fighting—politics and clan rivalries—but the thought of Christians
killing, imprisoning, and torturing one another deeply troubles me.
I don’t know as much about Scottish history as I should, but from what I do
know, I discern a tension between the lowlands and the highlands. As an example,
King James VI of Scotland, who was King James I of England—the guy responsible
for the King James Bible—wrote this:
As for the Highlands, I shortly comprehend them all in two sorts of people: the
one that dwelleth in our main land, that are barbarous for the most part, and
yet mixed with some show of civility; the other, that dwelleth in the Isles,
that are utterly barbarous, without any show of civility. [Magnus Magnusson,
Scotland: The Story of a Nation, p. 406].
He instituted a policy in which lowland Scots colonized the highlands and used
“slaughter, mutilation, fire-raising, and other inconveniences” to “root out the
barbarous inhabitants” [ibid, p. 407]. Not surprisingly, the Highlanders fought
back; and the policy ultimately failed. Yet it illustrates the lowland/highland
divide. In the movie A River Runs Through It, based on a true story, Tom
Scarrit’s character complains about his son changing the spelling of their last
name, McLeod, “People will think we’re lowland Scots.”
In the 1640s, the English civil war spilled over into Scotland, and clan
rivalries played a significant role. The MacDonalds fought for the king; the
Campbells supported the Kirk party. The Kirk party—they were the radical
Presbyterians who wanted the church free from the king’s control and favored
republican government—gained power when Charles I was killed by his English
subjects. On the plus side, they did a lot of good. They saw to the care of the
poor and the sick. They made a law that every parish was to have a school, paid
for by the local landowners. But not everything they did was good. They were
prone to witch hunts, and they forbade merchants to trade with Catholic
countries. Some things they did were good or bad depending on one’s point of
view. For instance, they made church attendance mandatory. The Kirk party was
not in power for long, and they began to have divisions among themselves, but
those who replaced them were not better in most respects and were worse in some.
When you look closely into the history of Scotland, you can see why the Founding
Fathers of this nation (many of whom were Scots), added freedom of religion to
the First Amendment. Again, Scotland was no different from the other nations of
Europe of the time, which is the problem. O that we would have our ancestors’
love for God and love for learning, but also more love for one another than they
often showed!
…
Jesus told a parable once about someone who sowed seeds in a field. Some seeds
fell onto rocky ground. They grew up quickly, but when the sun beat down upon
them, the plants withered and died. Jesus said that’s what happens when people
receive the Good News about him with joy but don’t make a serious commitment to
him. When persecutions and other hard times come, their faith withers and dies.
Our scripture reading addresses this danger, and the author of Hebrews reminds
his very first readers (and us too) of what happened to their ancestors. It is
another case of drawing from our heritage a negative example. Scripture asks us
not to make the same mistake they did. And the Christians who first read this
letter were tempted to make it.
The Israelites who left Egypt under the leadership of Moses never reached the
Promised Land. Well, they reached it once, but they did not enter it. Their
children did. The parents failed to enter God’s rest because although they had
seen God’s power with their own eyes, their faith withered under hardship.
They had heard Moses’ preaching. They had witnessed the plagues. They had
crossed the Red Sea on dry ground. They should have trusted God no matter what.
But what Pharaoh and his army failed to do, hunger and boredom accomplished.
When food ran low and water was scarce, the people complained against Moses and
God. When Moses was up on Mount Sinai too long, by their estimation, they
decided to make a new god to worship, and had Aaron craft the golden calf. Worst
of all, when they reached the Promised Land, they decided that anything
difficult is not worth doing, and they appointed leaders to take them back to
Egypt!
Maybe God has to drag every generation of his people kicking and screaming into
his will. No doubt God accomplishes far more good in this world in spite of us
than because of us. Yet the Exodus remains a sad story and an always-timely
reminder. Our ancestors rebelled against God in the wilderness. Why? Because
times were hard. Because God didn’t do things the way they thought he should. Do
you ever feel that way?
The Christians who first read the Book of Hebrews did. They were Jews and
God-fearing Gentiles who had come to believe in Jesus. Persecution of Christians
in the first century was a local phenomenon. Christians might be left alone in
one place but severely persecuted in another. These Christians were persecuted.
What would you do? Some friends are killed. Your property is confiscated. Maybe
you get beaten. You fear for your family. Judaism was protected under Roman law;
Christianity was not. Often Christians were persecuted by both Jews and pagans.
These particular Christians felt a strong temptation to simply let their faith
in Jesus wither and die. Go back to being just Jews. Go back to a quiet
paganism. Take the easy way out. The author of Hebrews says, “That’s just what
your ancestors did in the wilderness. They took the easy way out, and they
missed out on God’s promises. Learn from their example.”
I marvel how much in life is handed to us already made and we have to do the
best we can with it. Life isn’t like the game Monopoly. In Monopoly you get to
choose who you are going to be: the hat, the car, or whatever you like. And,
everybody starts out with the same amount of money. In life, you do not get to
choose the externals of who you are, and people do not begin with the same
advantages. You may be black or white, male or female, from a rich or poor
family; but you chose none of it. Your nationality at birth and your roots are
also given. You do not pick any of these things. What you do get to decide,
however, is what you will do with all of it. You can decide what sort of person
you will be in things that go deeper and matter more than these things—for
example, how you treat other people, your integrity, and your answer to God’s
call.
I said I would say something about families, so let me do that now. Just as we
must love our heritage critically if we are to honor it, we must do the same
with the legacy we receive from our families. Some examples are easy. We
probably all know people who never drink any liquor at all, not because of
religious scruples but because a parent, a grandparent, or other family members
were alcoholics. You see what alcohol does to your family, and you repudiate it
altogether. The same is often true of violent tempers and child abuse.
Sociologists and counselors know that this sort of behavior tends to be
perpetuated through generations. Children who are abused are more likely to
abuse their children. And yet … that little word tends is one of the most
beautiful in our language. Why? Because freedom is implicit in it. Statistical
tendencies may be against you, but you remain free to choose. Your father was an
alcoholic, as was his father before him, his father before him, and on back
beyond living memory. You remain free to follow their example or not. The same
with any other sin or problem.
When I was an intern at an inner city church in Louisville, I saw kids going to
college who were the first of their family ever to do so. They grew up in the
projects knowing only one kind of life. At church they saw another possibility,
and some of them took it.
Our family of origin shapes us in innumerable ways, yet we remain free to
embrace the good and reject the bad. The vacations, Christmas traditions, home
worship—some things need to be passed on. Constant criticism, a bully always
getting his or her way, no affection or encouragement—some things need to be
left behind.
Whether we are talking about your ethnic roots, your nationality, or your
family, we always arrive at the same bedrock truth: God gives you two things at
your birth. One is your heritage. No matter who you are, your heritage will
always be a mixture of good and bad. You are sure to find it both a blessing and
a burden. The second thing God gives you is this: the freedom to decide what to
do about it.
Who you become is decided in large part by what you choose to affirm and what
you choose to reject in the heritage God has given you. Embrace the good. Reject
the bad. And God give you the wisdom to know the difference. Jesus is the
difference. He is the criteria by which we know the good from the bad. Jesus,
and with him the scriptures and the Christian faith.
Always thank God for who you are. Why? Because no matter who you are, God has
created you and God loves you. You might wish to be different: taller, thinner,
a different nationality. You might want to be Scottish if you aren’t, and that
is perfectly understandable. Ultimately, however, those thing matter less than
we think. Whoever you are, God has given you what matters most: His promises and
the calling to be faithful—just as he gave these to the wilderness generation
under Moses and to those persecuted first-century Christians.
I am not one of those people who thinks you can blame the way you are on your
genetic constitution or your social conditioning. Genes determine a lot, but not
everything. Where you live and the opportunities you have and your family of
origin determine a lot, but not everything. You are free to choose—and therefore
you are obligated to choose!—who you are. All those things that have been
determined without your consent are the cards you have been dealt, but you must
play them.
Now to conclude, I know that I usually talk about how great all things Scottish
are, but I thought today I would change up a little because I really do believe
that we honor our heritage when we are honest about it and love it critically. I
want our Scottish roots to mean more to us than fun clothing and music. I want
us to really know what it is about, where we come from, and how it has made us
the people we are. Taking our heritage seriously and making it deeply meaningful
always requires us to make choices. If you are not Scottish, I hope you will do
this with your heritage. And above all, let us give thanks to God for our good
and godly heritage … and for our ancestors, who teach us by both their positive
and their negative example how we might be most faithful to God in our time and
place. Amen.
rev_mauldin@yahoo.com
May 27, 2007