Living Literally -- FPC sermon excerpt

What would it be like to live by every rule in the Bible for an entire year?

Difficult? Demanding? Stressful? Confusing?

How about … wonderful?

A journalist named A.J. Jacobs has attempted to do it, and has written a book called The Year of Living Biblically. His goal was to take the Bible literally, do what it says, and see how it affected him. He started off as an agnostic, and after a year of living literally he now calls himself a “reverent agnostic.”

He started by reading the Bible for four straight weeks, five hours a day, and compiling a list of “every rule, every guideline, every suggestion, every nugget of advice” he found in both the Old and New Testaments. When he finished, he had a list that ran for 72 pages with more than 700 rules. Jacobs saw that many of the rules would be good for him — things like telling the truth, not coveting, not stealing, and loving neighbors. But he also found rules that are just plain illegal today, like killing magicians and sacrificing oxen.

Well, maybe the last one is okay if you call it “grilling.”

Trying to live as literally as possible, Jacobs grew his beard and hair to the point that he looked like Moses, Abraham or the Unabomber — depending on your point of view. Following Ecclesiastes, he dressed all in white (9:8); in accordance with Leviticus, he took care not to wear any clothing of mixed fibers (19:19); he let himself watch TV, but he avoided turning it on so he couldn’t be accused of making a graven image. He “stoned” an adulterer in the park, but since the Bible doesn’t specify how big the stones have to be, he just tossed pebbles at an adulterer on a park bench. He didn’t kill the man, he just annoyed him.

A.J. Jacobs tried to obey all the laws of the Bible, but he made an interesting discovery — you cannot avoid picking and choosing. Every one of us is, to some extent, a “cafeteria Christian,” making choices from the Bible’s spiritual salad bar. Even people who say they are biblical literalists have to ignore some of the Bible’s regulations. Otherwise, for example, a fan of the Tennessee Titans would get in trouble for breaking Exodus 23:13, “Do not invoke the names of other gods.”

So what are we supposed to do? For Jacobs, the most important lesson is this that there is nothing wrong with choosing. “Cafeterias aren’t bad,” he writes. “I’ve had some great meals at cafeterias. … The key is in choosing the right dishes. You need to pick the nurturing ones (compassion), the healthy ones (love thy neighbor), not the bitter ones.”

In Matthew 10:40-42, Jesus gives some advice about how we are supposed to live. In particular, he encourages us to receive visitors with hospitality — regardless of whether they are significant people such as prophets, or the less significant people that Jesus calls “little ones” (10:42).

The reason that this sharing of hospitality is so important is that there is an unbreakable bond between a master and his followers, between Jesus the master and those of us who follow him. Jesus says, “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me” (v. 40). The connection is drawn not only from us to Jesus (“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me”), but also from Jesus back to God (“whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me”). So living literally as a follower of Jesus is really not focused on obeying certain rules and regulations, but instead living in such a way that we remain connected to Jesus and to God.

Ultramarathon Faith -- FPC sermon excerpt

One step at a time.

That’s the only way to run a marathon. Focus too much on the finish line, and you’ll never complete the course.

On my 40th birthday, a friend of mine challenged me to run the Marine Corps Marathon. The friend happened to be a Catholic priest. I thought he was crazy.

I had no experience as a runner, and the prospect of 26.2 miles was daunting. But I needed a midlife challenge. My priest friend had run several marathons, so he gave me some tips and turned me loose.

The first time I hit the road, I ran for three minutes and had to stop, gasping for breath. But after walking for seven minutes, I was able to run for another three, and then I walked another seven and ran three. Over several weeks, my running increased and my walking decreased until I could run for an hour. And then I ran two hours.

“If you can run two hours, you can run four hours,” my priest friend said. “If you can run four hours, you can do a marathon.”

He was right. Six months after beginning my training, I finished the 2000 Marine Corps Marathon in a respectable four hours and 12 minutes. I felt as if I’d been through boot camp, but my wobbly elation at the finish line made the pain worthwhile.

Since then, I have run a marathon a year — from Tucson to London. The most thrilling and agonizing was the Boston Marathon. Heartbreak Hill is perfectly named.

The Bible doesn’t record it, but Abram may have thought that God was a bit crazy when he issued the challenge, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1). The Lord was calling Abram, at age 75, to do more than a marathon — much more than a mere 26.2 miles. God was laying an ultramarathon in front of Abram, one that would take him from Haran to the land of Canaan, about 500 miles.

There was only one way to do it: One step at a time.

Now before you dismiss this as an impossibly long distance to cover on foot, realize that people today are routinely running incredibly long courses. Bob Brown is an ultra-distance athlete who completed a solo run across Europe in 2005. That same year, ultra-runner Pam Reed completed a 300 mile run without sleep — it took her about 80 hours. Thirty years ago, in the spring of 1978, 53-year-old Mavis Hutchinson became the first woman to run across the United States. Her journey took her 2871 miles, from Los Angeles to New York, and it lasted 70 days.

Run, Mavis, run.

You need some real faith to embark on such a journey — ultramarathon faith. This is faith that cannot see the finish line, but trusts that a blessing is waiting at the end. This is faith that cannot anticipate every obstacle, but believes that God is offering guidance along the way. This is faith that cannot always see the big picture, but focuses instead on the path that lies ahead. This is faith that requires hard work, struggle, even sacrifice — one in which the benefits come through serious exertion.