A Sermon Preached by Dave Shull

as the first in a three-part sermon series, Trusting God

April 17, 2005

University Congregational United Church of Christ

Seattle, Washington

I was having lunch with someone this week. As we talked about the ups

and downs in our relationships with God, I asked her, ‘What would be helpful for you to hear in a sermon series called Trusting God ?’ I’d been thinking a lot about how hard it is for people to trust, so I was interested in what she had to say about what helps her trust. But instead of talking about trust, she said, ‘The question that sermon title raises for me is, Who is God?’ I responded with a perfect Don Mackenzie ‘Oh . . . .’ And I realized trusting isn’t the only difficult concept in the phrase Trusting God. God probably deserves at least equal time.

Who is God?

Baptism says God is a God Who Names. The God we worship is the God Who Names. When Jesus was baptized, God’s voice thundered from the heavens: You are chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life (Mark 1.11, The Message). In our baptism, the God Who Names names us with the same name. And so from this morning until the end of eternity, Keegan and Lily have new names: Chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life.

I have a really hard time believing this is my name. All-too-familiar with the ways I am not who God wants me to be, I usually don’t feel like I’m the pride of God’s life. And I often have trouble seeing other people as bearers of this name. Especially when it’s someone who is saying things I radically disagree with, I don’t say to myself, This is my brother in Christ who is the pride of God’s life.

This sharp division among Christians surfaced last Wednesday night at a lecture I attended. Christian activist Jim Wallis spoke convincingly about the need for Christians to bridge the divide between our evangelical and liberal factions. He called us to listen to each other, respect each other, and to be humble since nobody has a monopoly on truth. When Wallis finished his prepared remarks, the audience jumped to our feet in thunderous applause.

The last speaker during the question-and-answer session did what no one else that night had done. He said, I don’t agree with what’s been said. Suddenly the mood shifted. Before he’d gotten a sentence out of his mouth, someone shouted, Just ask your question! When he tried to cite the results of a research study, someone behind me yelled, You’re just making that up! You’ll make up anything to prove your point!

We’d spent all evening shouting our Amens to the call to listen and love in the way of Jesus. And when someone started to say something we thought we’d disagree with, we simply refused to listen.

As witnesses to Keegan’s and Lily’s baptism, we make a commitment to them. As their sisters and brothers in Christ’s body, we commit ourselves to being his disciples. That means seeing all people as sisters and brothers whom God names, chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life. I don’t know of any harder calling than believing someone I radically disagree with is chosen and marked by God’s love and the pride of God’s life.

One of the times I had the most trouble seeing myself and others in this way was during my ministry in western Pennsylvania. As an ordained Presbyterian pastor, I hadn’t told anyone in the church about my love for my partner Peter. Otherwise the denomination would have taken away my ordination. Those of you who have tried to hid some truth about yourself know how such fear breeds shame, bitterness, and rage – the feelings that separate us from God.

On my last Sunday as pastor of this congregation, I sang a song to the children. I knew I was also singing to the congregation. And to myself. The song was the sermon I’d been afraid to preach. It was like a cartoon I saw years ago. A pastor stands in front of the congregation. There are some packed suitcases in the pulpit behind him. Through the sanctuary window is a taxi cab with the motor on and the meter running. The pastor says, ‘Today’s sermon is something I’ve wanted to say to you for a long time.’ So I sang that song to them.

And I offer it to you. I first heard sung by Priscilla Herdman, who I heard perform here in Seattle last night. The song was written as a lullaby for a parent to sing to a child. I invite you to hear it as God’s love song to you. Hear it as a love song you wish your mother or father had sung to you. A love song from the God Who Names you chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life.

EVERYTHING POSSIBLE

Words and Music by Fred Small

We have cleared off the table, the leftovers saved,

Washed the dishes and put them away.

I have told you a story and tucked you in tight

At the end of your knock-about day.

As the moon sets its sails to carry you to sleep over the midnight sea

I will sing you a song no one sang to me, may it keep you good company

CHORUS

You can be anybody you want to be, you can love whomever you will

You can travel any country where your heart leads

And know I will love you still.

You can live by yourself, you can gather friends around,

You can choose one special one,

And the only measure of your words and your deeds

Will be the love you leave behind when you’re done.

There are girls who grow up strong and bold,

There are boys quiet and kind,

Some race on ahead, some follow behind,

Some go in their own way and time,

Some women love women, some men love men,

Some raise children, some never do.

You can dream all the day never reaching the end

Of everything possible for you.

Don’t be rattled by names, by taunts, by games,

But seek out spirits true

If you give your friends the best part of yourself

They will give the same back to you. (CHORUS)

See what love God has for us that we should be called, Children of God. And so we are! Amen.