The The Unknown April 27, 2008

I Peter 3:13-22
Acts 17:16-33
Like the people of Athens at the Areopogate, we are a people fascinated by what is new. In my lifetime, the cost of a stamp for mailing a letter has risen from 4 cents to over 41, but I think the decrease in letter writing has more to do with the instantaneous nature of email and instant messaging, and the fad of reducing everything to a code, we no longer “Instant Message” we IM, we no longer Laugh Out Loud, we LOL. We try to out do one another by being the most current, having the newest, smallest, fastest, and we exchange meaning for being NEW.

There is a very proper lady in our community who as the weather shifted from snow to sun, began planning an upcoming vacation. She found a little known resort, isolated and away, yet claiming to have all the newest and most popular current emanates. Wanting to be certain what ALL THE CURRENT EMENITIES might be she wrote them an email and asked for a reply. Did they for instance have Wireless Internet and Personal Computers or should she bring her own? Did they have a pool or lakefront? Would there be horseback riding? Should she bring her own towels and linens or would these be provided? Unclear just how rustic this isolated camp might be, she wanted to ask whether there were indoor toilets or outhouses, but this seemed a vulgar thing to discuss. This lady began trying out euphemisms, even consulting her Thesaurus, she quickly rejected Water-closet and Bathroom, Latrine and Privy, settling upon the phrase POTTY COMMODE. However, being a very refined lady, reading the printed words POTTY COMMODE still seemed too graphic, so she abbreviated POTTY COMMODE as PC. The Resort Manager was accustomed to answering such questions and quickly began naming that yes they had wireless internet and she could bring her laptop or blackberry, or they had a dedicated computer station in the main building. He continued through her questions, until arriving at PLEASE DESCRIBE THE PC? What was a PC? She had already asked about Personal Computers, and Political Correctness did not seem to apply. PC, PC, at a loss for what she was describing, he typed the initials into GOOGLE and back came 3,846 listings for PRESBYTERIAN CHURCHES. SO he wrote back.
Madame, YES of course we have a PC, and I am delighted to tell you that it is only seven miles away!
We can give you directions, or perhaps when you go to the PC the first time, you would like my wife and I to go along with you, so you will not have to sit alone. I am told they are quite friendly at the PC, many going for solitude, others to listen, some to enjoy the music. They have even installed Air Conditioning in the PC and have cushioned seats. I am told that every six weeks the men of the PC put on a fine brunch, invite a speaker and people stay all morning. Children are welcome at the PC and sit beside their parents, or together up front. My wife and I used to go to the PC quite often, but you know how it goes, as we have gotten older, it seems harder and harder to get out of bed in the morning, to go to the PC as often as we should. It's actually been several years since I have gone to the PC, but I believe it will meet your needs.

Shifting from the ridiculous to the sublime,
The Rev. Dr. William Stidger was a respected Professor of Preaching at Yale University's School of Theology. One morning, he took a walk in the woods. As he walked he became aware, not only with his eyes seeing birds and squirrels amid the trees, but hearing all the movements, the world around him seemed vibrantly alive, there were scents and smells of life and decay he had all but forgotten. Though a distinguished Professor, in Midlife, he found himself to be running through the woods like a schoolboy. He stopped beside the lake, and became mesmerized at the question of which is reality, the Village with its spires and towers and lawns, or the reflection upon the water, that seemed a mirror of everything above. Skipping rocks across the face of the water, he reflected upon his life, and came to think about his favorite teacher in 5th Grade English Miss. Dorthea Rothermel. When he returned to his study, he called the school where she had taught and they informed him she still lived in he same little house she always had. He wrote her a letter, careful to use his best penmanship, describing how much she had meant to him. Naming that her interest in him, had inspired him to continue his education more than any particular lesson he had learned. A few days later, he received a reply.
MY DEAR WILLY, (No one had dared call him that in decades)
Of course I remember you, a teacher remembers her every student. How dear of you to write to me. I am retired, having taught public education for over 50 years, and served as a substitute teacher for twenty more. Every morning and afternoon, I listen for the voice of the children as they walk passed my home, recalling the voices of children in the classroom. Quite honestly, I do not know what possessed you to write, as in all these years, yours is the only letter of this kind I have ever received. Thank you. I shall treasure your words always.
Stidger felt the tears dripping from his chin, and recognizing there were others he should remember, he wrote to his first employer after college, really more of a mentor than an employer. This man had given a chance and believed in him, he had helped him to make application of ideas and theory into reality for how to work with people. In the letter, Stidger recalled having Sunday dinner each week at his mentor's home loving prepared by the mentor's wife. Stidger briefly described how he had put the lessons he had been taught into practice, and the learnings of a lifetime that he attributed to his master's teachings.
The reply came back almost immediately.
DEAR WILL,
Oh how your words took me back through time! Our conversations always made me late for supper. I laughed out loud recalling how my love would scold me for her meal being overcooked, and how I would try to explain that you were wrestling with some great problem of life. Reminiscing, I called out to her to come read your letter with me, then as no voice responded, I recalled that of course she died six weeks ago. But your letter, and the memories you shared of Sunday dinners together brought her back to me. Thank you my good friend.
How does the image of a beloved mentor laughing at the memory of being scolded by his wife, get communicated in an abbreviated text message LOL?

The Apostle Paul, preaching at the Areopogus recognized that the people of Athens were perpetually searching for what was NEW what was unknown and might satisfy or at least be intriguing for the moment. Paul named that that which they were searching for and trying to create, already was and is. They even knew God as the UNKNOWN and UNKNOWABLE. Like trying to explain the THEORY OF Intelligent Design, Paul recounted NATURAL THEOLOGY, the stars and planets, the atmosphere and interdependence of all creation is too great to be an accident of fate. Paul described that they had seen with their own eyes and experienced all around them PROOF of the existence of the UNKNOWN, the GOD not made with human hands, not worshipped as an idol in a temple made by women and men, the TRUE GOD who was before all and will be after we are gone.

But this is only the foundation of faith. How does one describe a lifetime commitment to NON-VIOLENCE that insists on ACTIVE RESISTANCE, ACTS OF FAITH and LOVE that have changed the world?
Peter attempts in his Letter, to name that a NATURAL THEOLOGY as Noah Trusted was not enough. That God had entered into human life in Jesus of Nazareth and changed the world forever, and now we must choose to take for granted what we know to be and choose to NOT Know, or do we risk believing in the UNKNOWN GOD, risking a letter to a teacher who started you on a lifetime of learning, a mentor who challenged and supported you taking you into their family as their own.
Paul describes the Resurrection from death to life and Life Eternal.
In some small way, isn't that what Stidger did in giving to a teacher who had never received a Letter of Thanks, that word of kindness and gratitude?... to his mentor, that inspired him to move from grieving his loss to living with her memory?