Quinqugesima Sermon

C.S Lewis once said that God's glory was weighty, having a depth and substance unlike anything on earth. The weight of God's glory is often revealed through God's lavish gifts. For instance, as each of our three children has filled their lungs with their first breath, my mind has numbed with the realization that this child is God's gift. However, I have also realized at the birth of my children that God's weighty gifts of glory carry much responsibility. As a father, I am to love my children; love them for who God has made them to be and for who God has redeemed them to become. This responsibility is terrifying and as I have looked into my children's eyes the first time, I have been paralyzed with a chilling fear that I will fail them as a father.

The weighty gifts of God's glory carry great responsibility and there is no gift of God as weighty and glorious as his gift of grace. When we begin to grasp the height, width and depth of God's love toward us revealed on the cross, we should be overwhelmed with God's weighty glory and if we are not we have not comprehended what grace really is. However, Grace carries great responsibility for all who have been given grace ought to love God with all their heart, soul and strength, as St. John said, "Who ever does not love, does not know God." (I John 4:8) This responsibility is terrifying because we know we will fail. We know how stiff-necked and stubborn we are and how incomplete our love is, thus, we are often afraid to love God, as we should. Instead of being overwhelmed by the weight of glory, we are burdened by the weight of failure.

It seems we have a cultural aversion to failure. Thus, our fear of failure often drives us to assume that our best efforts are enough. There was an article in the Newpress this past Wednesday talking about how American college students believe that if they try their best they should get an A no matter how good their work actually is. A majority of college students think that what really matters is how hard they try no matter how many answers they get wrong and if they try their best and fail, they will not try again.¹ The fear of failure prevents many college students from learning. Not surprisingly many people think religion operates the same way, the only thing that matters if our effort. We have created our own peculiar American god, who loves and redeems all those who try their best at being good (whatever that means). However, what happens when you fail? For instance, as many of you know, I was not a great basketball player, but I was a relatively good basketball player (at least among the limited number of males in my small high school). One time in sixth grade, I did a good thing I stole a pass. Then I did another good thing, I dribbled down the court in the right direction. These two good deeds were amplified by another good deed; I was running faster than any other player was on the court. However, my good deeds were erased by a colossal failure. When I reached the half line on the court, I tripped. I skidded across the court on my elbows and knees and as I was lying there, face down, I heard the crowd giggling. I failed and my one failure whipped out all of my good deeds. No one remembered the good things I had done. No one told me after the game, "Nice steal" or "good dribbling" or "You are really fast" all I heard was, "Did you have a nice trip?" Our failures are devastating and our goodness or best efforts cannot wipe them out.

If our failures can be devastating, is it reasonable to stop loving out of a fear of failure? No, because in Jesus Christ our failures are wiped out. In our First Lesson, we heard that God commanded Moses to place to Ten Commandments in the Ark of Covenant. This command may seem mundane, but it has glorious symbolism. The Ten Commandments are supposed to be a blessing that help us properly love God and others, as we should. Yet, because of sin, the Commandments reveal our failures.² For this reason, God told Moses to put the commandments into the Ark of the Covenant. The Ark of the Covenant was the central object in the temple. The ark was a gilded box four feet long, two feet wide, and two feet deep. The lid of the ark was pure gold and was called the "mercy seat" or the "atonement cover." On the lid, were two Cherubim facing each other and looking down. The Cherubim looked down upon the contents of the ark, the Ten Commandments,³ and saw our failures and our sins. However, once a year on the Day of Atonement, the high priest would enter the throne room of God, the Holy of Holies and sprinkle blood upon the atonement cover. On that day, the Cherubim looked down and saw not the failures of the people but the blood of the sacrificial lamb. Some once said, "On the Day of Atonement it was not the blood of the goat that took away sin; rather the symbolism of the ark, the ritual, and the sacrifices were designed to provoke faith…and prepare God's people for the fulfillment of the promise that was to come in Christ."⁴ We do not need to fear failure because on the cross Jesus Christ once and for all atoned for all our sins and all our failures and instead of looking upon our failures, God the Father looks upon the blood of Jesus Christ, whose sacrifice covers over our sins.

There are times when I am afraid to love my children because I am terrified of failure. There are also times when I am afraid to love God, as I should because I am afraid of failure. However, my fears are not justified because Jesus Christ bore on his shoulders, not just, the weight of the cross, but also the weight of our sins and failures. Since Jesus Christ bore the weight of my failures, I no longer need to fear them. The weighty gift of God's grace frees us from the burden of past sins and future failures. Therefore, since the blood of Jesus Christ takes the sting of failure away, let us depart in peace and go forth to love and serve God great boldness.