Unexpected
Isaiah 1:1, 10-20; Luke 12:32-40

August 8, 2004

Words are often the most persistent fads. A new word is coined or revived and used until its meaning is distorted and changed. The adjective “evangelical” meant originally something characterized by the Gospel, but it has been separated from that association to denote a certain style of Christian faith, practice, and institution. If a particular church does not want to describe itself as evangelical, it does not mean that this church does not live out the Gospel call.

The word for today was briefly popular a generation ago - “serendipity.” It means an unexpected discovery of something joyful. We ministers and Christian educators almost killed the word back then. Everything had to be serendipity to have the least shred of authenticity. If your religious faith was not “serendipitous,” well, you were nearly boring. Nearly boring? You were a faithless blob of unserendipitous flesh. I think the word slowly faded out of the common glib tongue because it was so hard to pronounce and spell right. When did you last use the word in a sentence?

Let’s not be harsh, however, the word serendipity does deserve to stick around because it points you towards an experience, an event, that is otherwise indescribable. It is an event, something unique that happens when for no reason at all, without any warning, it all beautifully makes sense. There is another word, of course, and that is Gospel, that evangelical of all words in its original clothing.

What all the Biblical authors are attempting to put into words, from Old to New Testament, is what it is like to experience the presence of God and so the nature of God. It is tempting to summarize the message of the Bible into one word, so I will fall to temptation. Unexpected: grace-full, paradoxical, joy beyond all reason, serendipity. Can’t go home yet, though. Allow me to fill in the words and letters between the lines.

It really doesn’t matter which age and which religious tradition; most people enjoy the familiar in worship and faith. Worshiping in a particular style is a learned skill. Just in our narrow scope of Christianity there is a dizzying array of practices and routines. Talk about bilingual, how many of you are bi-denominational? Are you able to go into a Roman Catholic and know exactly what is going on and how and when to do it? Can you stand up at the right time, hold your hands in the correct alignment, give the correct liturgical response to a prayer without having it written in the bulletin? I have never made the sign of the cross. Never. That’s because I did not develop the right skills as a young person. I don’t know which way to go or to start.

To say the least, there are lots of religious, churchy terms that mean a lot to some of us, but little to the uninitiated and unskilled. Tell people to assemble in the narthex and you might have some lost people in this building. Invocation, pastoral prayer, words of assurance, deacon, scripture, even sermon or homily are not words used on the street. Knowing how to use a hymnal is an advanced skill today.

Some of you are familiar and comfortable with all of this - no surprises. Others are not familiar or comfortable, at least for a while. But we all have our ideas about what proper worship should be like, and so did the Israelites.

The Israelites worshiped in a similar fashion to the way their neighbours in the Ancient Near East worshipped. The centre of the service usually was some kind of a sacrifice of an animal or food - a time of great pomp and circumstance. It was exciting and comforting to go to such a service, for they knew then that all was right with the world, that everything was in its place, that they were a chosen people still.

Isaiah had another perspective about their worship, God’s word and it was not favourable. Oh, it must have been very unexpected.

“Don’t you think I’ve had my fill of burnt sacrifices, rams and plump grain-fed calves. Don’t you think I’ve had my fill of blood from bulls, lambs, and goats? When you come before me, who ever gave you the idea of acting like this, Running here and there, doing this and that -- all this sheer commotion in the place provided for worship?

“Quit your worship charades. I can’t stand your trivial religious games: monthly conferences, weekly Sabbaths, special meetings -- meetings, meetings, meetings -- I can’t stand one more! Meetings for this, meetings for that. I hate them! You’ve worn me out! I’m sick of your religion, religion, religion, while you go right on sinning.” (The Message, Isaiah 1:11-14, Eugene Peterson)

Blunt and harsh as this may be, Isaiah is giving us the Gospel, the Good News, a whiff of serendipity. God doesn’t care about pomp, or whether you are wearing the right liturgical robes, or whether everything is done just right. God wants you and me to really worship God, not your love of a predictable and comforting religious practice. When the Protestants started reforming, this was their constant refrain. The unexpected is where God is to be found, and that is serendipity, the surprising undeserved grace of God.

Jesus was entirely an unexpected person. He didn’t do things the old traditional way at all, and it got him in trouble. A lot of people believed in him and wanted to help others like he did, but before he sent them out, he had an unexpected list of criteria.

“Stop being so scared, my little flock. Your Father has decided to make you responsible for the Movement. Sell what you own and give it with no strings attached. Make yourselves wallets that don’t wear out, an unsurpassed spiritual treasure which thieves don’t plunder, nor worms consume. For your treasure and your heart are wrapped up together.

“Roll out now and put on your pants, and turn on the lights. Be on your toes, like workers expecting the boss back from lunch, and when he comes and looks around, they’ll be hard at it. Lucky are those workers who, when the boss slips up on them, are on their jobs. I’m telling you, he’ll praise them, lend them a hand, and even invite them to lunch with him. And suppose he comes back after hours and finds them working away, they’re really topnotch workers. For you may be sure of this: if a homeowner knew what time the thief was coming, he wouldn’t allow his house to be broken into. So you all, be constantly on your toes, because the son of man might come when you’re not expecting it.” (The Cotton Patch Version, Luke 12:32-40, Clarence Jordan)

Now again, that’s serendipity - the happy discovery of something unexpected by accident. The Gospel’s serendipity is that you and I are happily discovered by God, and God wants to give you the kingdom. But now you are responsible for its nurture and safekeeping. That is most unexpected.

Donald Trump, the man we love to hate, was driving back to New York City from Atlantic City when his car broke down on the Garden State Parkway. If you have driven on that road, you know there are no gardens to beautify the way. Trump’s stuck, but along comes an unemployed auto mechanic. He stops and is able to fix the ailing car, but refuses to accept any money. The next day his wife receives a bouquet of flowers and a letter noting that the couple’s house mortgage had been completely paid off.

The real Gospel story is what did that couple do with their serendipity?

It isn’t going to do you any good to roam the highways looking for Donald Trump broken down on the shoulder. Donald is going to end up at your doorstep some night, or some other incarnation of Donald -- or is it the incarnation of someone else?

When something remarkable happens unexpectedly, you will be just like those disciples who have sold everything and have nothing on them. All you will have is your heart and you give that away. The only thing you will have left is a serendipity, the kingdom of heaven, and it’s within you.

Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan