Those of you who “follow” Good Shepherd on Facebook (either our “normal” page or our “24/7 Coffee Hour” page) know that I regularly post the holy days that appear in the Church’s liturgical calendar, along with a link to some resource that explains those days. I also post other significant days (and a link)—both the major holy days for other world religions as well as days of global importance (as designated by the United Nations, for example). Well, I missed a “significant” day earlier this week. Appearing in my Facebook feed on Friday was the reminder that “Star Trek” premiered on that day 57 years ago; yes, September 8 is “Star Trek Day” (not to be confused, of course with Star Wars Day, May the 4th).
Those of us who remember that premier may recall a “Will any of that ever really happen?” feeling? Well, the incredibly multicultural cast/crew of the 1966 USS Enterprise was prescient. Technologically, we’ve gone beyond flip-phone communicators (although some folks still prefer them). We can talk to Alexa or Siri—that is, our computers. The kiss between Captain Kirk and Lt. Uhura seems a whole lot less controversial for most of us today than it did in 1968. What the original Star Trek and its television and movie successors gave us was Gene Roddenberry’s somewhat-utopian vision of the future. And, there is a sense that that the series and the movies became (for some) a visual “scripture”—with a created cosmos populated by diverse creatures who necessarily interact with each other—although not without conflict. Yet, underlying much of the Star Trek universe is a hopeful vision of the future.
Our scriptures—both the Hebrew and Christian—also aim at a positive future . . . in multiple ways. From the very beginning, God created a “very good” world, with the hope that all those diverse creatures would multiply and fill the world (in their specific environments)—not necessarily without conflict (not all animals are herbivores!), but at least in a harmonious and sustainable way. The stories that we’ve heard over the last few weeks from Genesis, and now into Exodus, point to a future for a “chosen people”: a land flowing with milk and honey. Recognizing, however, the fallen nature of humanity—and how it played out in that nation’s history—we see a a broader future envisioned by the Hebrew prophets and Jesus himself where justice, mercy and equality reigned for all. When broken, fallen, humans put Jesus to death, the Christian community adopted another message of a future—this time, a mostly other-worldly future—where wrongs would be righted; a new heavens and earth!
As Christians, much of the language we use is all about the future: from Hebrews: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen”(1.1). From the Nicene Creed: “ [We believe that Christ] will come again in glory . . . and his kingdom will have no end . . . We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come” (BCP, 358-359). All of this future-orientation, though, begs questions: “What kind of future do we envision?” or “What does Christ’s realm look like?” Or “What is the ‘life of the world to come?’”.
A future for a chosen people, as I mentioned, in envisioned in the book of Exodus—and suggested in our first reading (echoed a bit in our Psalm). A past of slavery, of servitude—will be left behind; there is a promise of redemption, a future of freedom for the Israelites. Yet that hope was for them. Their freedom, their future, came at a cost for others. The Egyptians paid horribly for their part in the story. But many people of good faith wonder, “Would that have been a necessary part of a loving God’s hope for creation?” It would be natural to see things in that light as the biblical writers were trying to understand their story in light of their relationship with God. BUT, many of us are troubled by that kind of vision and, therefore, struggle with this story. Is that the kind of future we see God envisioning: our freedom at the expense of others? What is the future God calls us to envision?
Paul, writing to the Christians in Rome, reflects a different vision of the future. His understanding requires that Christians live differently than their neighbors: “[Get] rid of the actions that belong to the darkness; put on the weapons of light. [Behave] appropriately as people who live in the day . . . [dressed] with the Lord Jesus Christ, and [not indulging] selfish desires” (13.13-14). “Live differently!” Paul counsels. Why? “[You] know what time it is. The hour has already come for you to wake up from your sleep. [Our] salvation is nearer than when we first had faith. The night is almost over, and the day is near” (13.11-12). Paul anticipates an impending future that demands a different kind of behavior, a new ethics, almost as part of the “entrance requirements”.
But that future did not arrive as expected. Does that mean that the new ethics are no longer imperative, and that Christians could revert to our old ways; the urgency being gone? Or does it suggest that Christian living needs to adjust itself for the long haul? Later letters of the New Testament suggest that—that our responsibility, the living out of our personal lives, should reflect an understanding that God’s realm is here, now, and present until . . . (?) Do we envision a future that is predicated only on “saving ourselves” or one in which we have done our best to improve the lot of all creation? What is the future God calls us to envision?
Jesus, according to Matthew, offers a different kind of paradigm. The passage we heard this morning is a part of a larger section, beginning in chapter 16, which includes a charge to Peter and the community to create an future where heaven’s values are reflected on earth. In this view of the future (for which we pray regularly), what is most desired is the wholeness of the community. Those who fall short of the community’s mark, are to be gently corrected with the hope that they will return to the fold. Only after all reasonable measures have been taken, and the offending party still refuses to change, is that offender to be treated as a “Gentile or tax collector”—not as someone excommunicated, but as one who can still be (re-)invited to return. Vengeance is not part of the equation. What kind of future do we want— one where threat reigns? Or one where the “Welcome” sign is always lit? What is the future God calls us to envision?
That question is, of course, more than just one for “biblical” times. Tomorrow is the anniversary of a singularly horrific event in American history: a terrorists attack on our land. One has to wonder what kind of future those terrorists envisioned. Their actions certainly created a different world—one in which we now live: a future-present where fear of the other is paramount. But is that the kind of future we want to perpetuate? What is the future God calls us to envision?
The question “What kind of future do we want/envision?” is particularly appropriate to address in this Season of Creation. There are some, holding to a particular reading of the Bible, who continue to hold that Paul’s assertion that the “time is drawing near” and translate that belief into an attitude of “Who cares about the environment? The world’s coming to an end anyhow.” That, as far as I’m concerned, is an incredibly bad theology. Yes, there is an urgency . . . but not just for humans . . . for the environment as a whole. Would God wish that we ignore the peril facing God’s good creation? Would God wish that we continue to pollute or use up resources in such a way that there is no future for that creation? What kind of future does God, do we, envision? And what is our role now?
And, of course, there is always the question of the future we envision here at Good Shepherd. I believe we have embraced the Creator’s ideal of a loving and inclusive community. I believe that we have embraced God’s vision of a just and equitable society. I believe we have embraced God’s ideal for everyone’s individual gifts and talents to be employed for the good of the community—both large and small! How do we translate that embrace into something tangible? Well, we go to the picnic! We engage in outreach and advocacy! We follow up on “Gathered and Gifted” with “Gifted and Going On” in a couple of weeks. We all have multiple ways to engage in creating a new, sustainable future.
What kind of future do we, with God, envision . . . for our world, for our church? There is urgency, but that urgency doesn’t mean that we employ self-serving, or vindictive, or “the-present-be-damned”, policies. God’s history is longer than that; God’s creation was destined for a good future whose end is known only to God. Until then, we’re urgently needed as stewards . . . co-creators . . . whose role is to ensure a just, equitable, glorious, beautiful creation for all.
The day of reckoning is always before us, and it asks, “What kind of future do we want?” Are we ready to “boldly go”, as God would envision, into that future?
Amen.