One of the comments in last Sunday’s sermon that garnered the most conversation (well, among folk I had a chance to talk with) was my reference to the popular television show The Biggest Loser. I made the point that our nation’s waistline is a sign of a spiritual (not just a physical) malady, and that Loser is an indication of our communal/cultural desire for something different than eating high fat food and hanging around on the couch.
Some described to me the very positive, gracious spirit of the show – how it helps people see that somehow, there is a way. One can change, especially with a lot of help and support. Grace indeed.
Is it true that Loser (whose name I can’t help but associate with the cross…and the thought of Jesus as the ultimate victorious loser…) represents a desire among us to “get in shape” – spiritually? And how does this metaphor of the physical embodiment of that quality (“in shape”) help or hurt our effort and desire to become spiritually (and not just physically) whole?
All who spoke with me about the sermon found that to be a helpful comment; some even indicated that they are now going to make a step toward physical fitness (yes!). And (but?) I am also aware of people in the congregation – and among my friends – who struggle so mightily with issues of weight, food, body image. To what degree is our desire to get “in shape” also a caving in to a body ideal that’s really a pagan idol?
If God loves us as we are, what does it say if our motivation to get “in shape” is to conform to that cultural body ideal that says to us, thin is beautiful? When every billboard supermodel peers down at us, shouting under her breath (and breasts): This is beautiful. What then of our Christian understanding that it is God’s imprint that has already made us all so. Thin fat, tall, short: all are imprinted with the stamp that bespeaks ultimate beauty - however badly we may smudge it.
But all this to emphasize the main point: how do we get in shape, as a community – spiritually? And what does that mean? And how do we get there together?
That’s what Advent’s about. Training for something. A worthy goal, which has to do with what’s ahead. And we need to train for it together.
And so, the conversation about “do you pray?” and “how do you pray?” continues, especially as the final note in the sermon was a challenge – as we begin our “Seven Minutes a Day” campaign – the encouragement to begin – or continue and deepen – a spiritual practice.
Love your comments on any of that above. How are you approaching the notion of getting “in shape”? How is this a spiritual issue for you? Are there folk out there yearning to get in shape “spiritually” and physically? How are you making a first step?
I realize I haven’t said much about this Sunday. That’s because I’m on the road (a trip to Louisville for church biz), and am, frankly, behind.
The text I’ll focus on is the Luke text (Luke 3:1-6), and I am going to focus on the wilderness as an important symbol in the spiritual journey.
Why does the Word of God come to John…in the wilderness? After Luke names all these muckety mucks in high places: a lowland voice of a crazy preacher is the one that bears God's Word.
How has the wilderness played a part in your spiritual journey? Has it enabled you...hindered you from hearing the divine Word?
Look forward to seeing you on Sunday.
Peace,
Jeff
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In last Sunday’s sermon, I mentioned the movie “Into the Wild”. If you’ve seen the movie, you know it’s about a young man who graduates from college, and decides to leave everything behind – his car, his inheritance, his life – and go to the last wild place on earth: Alaska. He takes only a shotgun to hunt with, and some provisions.
And dies there.
The point for which this was an illustration : sometimes the place where we can best hear the Word above the noise are the wild place—the places of chaos and discomfort and, by definition, danger. People were going out to John, the wild man in the wild place, in order to hear his Word. Sometimes, we’ve got to go there to hear it.
But, what brings me to mention this is something one of the members said after worship. “Do you remember what he discovered there in the wilderness?” he asked me as I was going into Fellowship Hall. “People. Remember? After all that time alone, he discovered that what really matters is people. The people in his life. It took that time, out there, in the wild, to figure that out. Sometimes we have to go there – to where we can experience what Wendell Berry calls “the peace of wild things,” to figure that out.
Thought that was a mighty fine insight.
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