Somebody Special
a sermon based on I Peter 2: 2-10

By Dr. David Rogne

When I was a teenager, the title I wanted more than any other was the title "car owner."  The time finally came when, in my mid-teens, I was able to assume that title.  It was then brought home to me that more went with that title than I had at first imagined.  I found that because of the limited amount I had spent on the car I had to spend more time under it than in it.  I found that I had to pay more for insurance than I had originally paid for the car.  The desirability of the title "car owner" vanished with the actual experience of being a car owner.

I have since learned that this is true of other titles to which we might aspire, such as "adult", or "parent", or "chairman."  We learn that what had originally sounded pretty impressive or desirable carries with it responsibilities we had not considered. In the scripture which was read this morning, the writer of I Peter tries to express his understanding of the role of church members through a number of strong and rather pleasant sounding metaphors.  I should like to consider with you this morning four of those descriptive phrases, which at first, sound so desirable. They will help us to understand what Christians have been called to be.

The first thing Peter says is that Christians are members of a chosen race.  Throughout the Old Testament this title is applied to the Jews.  Time and again their sages wondered aloud why God chose the Jews to be a special people.  All they could come up with was reasons why God should not have chosen Israel.  Moses, speaking to the people told them "it was not because you were more numerous than any other people that the Lord set his love upon you and chose you, for you were the fewest of all peoples." (Deuteronomy 7:7)

 It was not because of their superior culture; the Egyptians were older; the Greeks were more sophisticated.  It was not because of their righteousness: they were a pretty earthy crew; not much worse than their neighbors, but certainly not much better. W. N. Ewers expressed the strangeness of this choice in brief 8 word poem: 

"How odd of God,

to choose the Jews."

Moses explanation was simple:  "God loves you because God loves you."  The reasons why, only God could understand.  The Jews listened, and they were moved:  they, who were no people, had become a people, solely through the actions of God.

This was what the author of First Peter was trying to say about the church.  The early Christians, too, were at a loss to explain why God had chosen them.  Like the ancient Jews, they could only find negative reasons for God's choice.  Paul looked at the church at Corinth in his day and wondered what God had in mind: adultery, incest, drunkenness, and gluttony were things Paul had to deal with in the church.  Then it occurred to Paul; God had done it again: He had chosen people, not because of their righteousness, but because he loved them.  So Paul said, "Look around the church - there are not many wise, not many powerful, not many noble: yet from this hodge-podge, from these nobodies, God has chosen a people. (I Corinthians 1:26 ff)

But chosen for what?  The Jewish people permitted the idea of being chosen to mean "Chosen for privilege", rather than "appointed for service", and that idea damaged their usefulness. The same thing has happened time and again in the church.  The idea of being a people of God can become an occasion for pride as people see themselves as part of the chosen few - very few. Christians

have been chosen, but for mission; we have been appointed, but to serve; we have been summoned by God, but to be a people for God's purposes.

You are no doubt aware that in the golden days of the settling of the West, one of the major means of transportation was the stagecoach.  James W. Moore has pointed out that stagecoaches had three different kinds of tickets: first-class, second-class, and third-class.  A first-class ticket meant that you could remain seated, no matter what.  If the stagecoach got stuck in the mud, or even if a wheel fell off, you could remain seated.  A second-class ticket meant that you could sit down until there was a problem.  Then, you had to get off and stand to the side while somebody else fixed the problem.  If you had a third-class ticket it meant that you could sit down until there was a problem, but then you had to get off and push!  You had to put your shoulder to it and help solve the problem.  Too many church people think they have a first-class ticket.  All of us have been chosen to make the trip, but a lot more of us have third-class tickets than are willing to admit it!  We have been chosen, but chosen to serve.

The second thing Peter says is that Christians belong to a royal priesthood. A basic Protestant tenet is that all believers have a priestly role. But what is that priestly role? Well, for one thing, a priest connects people with God. The Latin word for priest is pontifex, -- which means bridge-builder—one who brings two sides together.

To accomplish this, priests are expected to speak for God to the people.  That is a switch for some of us; we have thought it was the duty of others to speak for God.  Many of us, if we had any awareness of responsibility for others at all, may have felt that we had done our share when we have gotten other people to church. But the church is not God's message; at best, it is only a frail and tarnished vessel in which the message is carried.  To change metaphors, we, who are the church, are God's letter carriers, authorized to deliver a message.  Getting people to church is just another method of delivery - general delivery at that.  What God has given to every Christian is a special delivery message for those we contact.  If people act surprised that we are the ones chosen to deliver that message, let us agree with them.  We are like messengers from Western Union trying to deliver a singing telegram, when we cannot carry a tune.  Something is lost in the transmission.  The message is, of course, the gospel of Jesus Christ, the good news that God loves people, forgives them their waywardness and accepts them as his children in spite of their weaknesses.  As priests, that is the kind of message we must deliver.  The message is one of reconciliation.  As they go through life, people come to sense their separation, their estrangement from God, from their fellows, and even from the better self they would like to be.  It is for such persons that we have good news - the good news that God accepts - the good news that the gulf between ourselves and God was not of God's making, but our own - and it has been bridged.  God and humans have been reconciled.  As priests, that is the kind of message we are called to deliver.

But priests also speak to God on behalf of the people.  Peg Severy, a member of a nearby sister church, serves as a volunteer with Travelers' Aide at Los Angeles International Airport.  During those tense weeks when reserve units and military personnel were being called up and deployed to the Middle East, nine young men in their military uniforms stopped by Mrs. Severy's desk and, in conversation with her, asked if she went to church.  She said she did, and they asked if she would have her church's pastor and people pray for them.  She said she would, and then she asked if they wanted to pray together then and there.  They said, "Sure!"  So all of them held hands in a circle right there in the busy terminal at LAX and prayed, some with tears streaking down their cheeks.  Others travelers, seeing what was going on, came and joined the circle, as did an airport police officer who was passing by.  It was a special moment for everyone - especially for those young men facing an unknown and dangerous future.  Mrs. Severy was being a priest.

Peter goes on to say that Christians are part of a holy nation. That was originally a title given to Israel.  The "nation" part of that title was certainly more evident for Israel, for they were people of a common ethnic background and they were settled in a confined geographic place.  When applied to the church, the term is more difficult to understand, because the church is composed of people

 

from varied national backgrounds, varied languages, widely distributed across national boundaries.  This new nation transcends national boundaries.  It's citizenry is unified by a common allegiance to one Lord.  It is called the Kingdom of God.  It is not a territory; it is an attitude in the hearts, minds and wills of its citizens; an attitude in which God is recognized to be Lord of all.

The hallmark of this new allegiance, says Peter, is holiness. Christians are to be a holy nation.  The root meaning of the word translated as "holiness" is "separateness."  It implies living life in a manner which is separate, distinct, from the way other people conduct themselves.  The Los Angeles Times carried the story of gospel rap singer, Chuckie Perez.  "Dancing energetically on stage before a crowd of cheering teenagers, Perez clenches a microphone and belts out the words to his latest rap record.  The bass is pounding and the rhyme is catchy.  But when it comes to the message, Chuckie is miles away from the more famous rap artists of these times.  ‘You think I'm strange cause I won't do the wild thing.  You call me a fruitie cat,’ he sings before a crowd in San Juan Capistrano.  'Well, I'm saving myself for the girl of my dreams.  Tell me, do you have a problem with that?'"  He is urging chastity.  Certainly, what he is singing about is miles away from what is sung by other rappers.  Perez is committed to Jesus Christ and he is trying to use a medium that young people will listen to, to let them know that there is a life-style different from the one that glamorizes the drugs, sex and violence that is so frequently the focus of today's youth culture.  Perez would not use the word, but what he is talking about is holiness.

Finally, Peter calls the church God's own people.  Sometimes, the value of a thing lies not so much in itself, but in the one to whom it belongs.  I know parents who keep a lock of hair which is not worth anything in itself, but it is significant to them because it takes them back to the innocent childhood of a son or daughter.

I remember poignant scenes from more than one war movie in which a flyer has to gather together the belongings of a buddy killed in action.  He comes across a mostly-used tube of toothpaste.  At first he throws it in the trash, but then, on second thought, he lifts it out of the trash and places it among the personal effects to be sent home.  It will have value because of who it belonged to.

Leslie Weatherhead tells of visiting some friends in the country, when Pete, an aged and feeble dog came and lay at his feet.  Pete didn't have much to commend him.  He had a skin disease and a veterinarian had suggested putting him to sleep.  Weatherhead asked why they didn't do it.  "Because he is Mike's dog," they said.  Their son, Mike, was serving in the Navy and was away from home.  "Pete is a great care," said the hostess, "but we love him for Mike's sake.  The dog was something that Mike loved, and those parents did not want to face Mike when he returned from the service and have to tell him that the dog had been put away because he was a nuisance and not worth saving.  The dog had worth because he was Mike's dog.  "Suppose some angelic cynic were to look down on this world of ours," says Weatherhead.  "Can't you imagine him saying to another angel, "I can't understand why God doesn't just wipe humans off the earth.  Look how they've wrecked God's plans."  But we are part of God's own people.  Our worth comes, not from our own merit, but from the fact that we belong to God.

Chosen race, royal priesthood, holy nation, God's own people. Which title do you like?  As members of the church, all of them belong to all of us.  They are not titles of privilege, but reminders that all of us are called to be in service.

Listen to how Ruth Calkins put it in her poem, "Heartprint."

Whatever our hands touch,

We leave fingerprints!

On walls, on furniture,

On doorknobs, dishes, books

There's no escape.

As we touch, we leave our identity.

 

0 God, wherever I go today

Help me to leave heartprints!

Heartprints of compassion,

of understanding and love,

Heartprints of kindness

and genuine concern.

May my heart touch a lonely neighbor,

Or a runaway daughter

or an anxious mother

or perhaps an aged grandfather.

Lord, send me out today

to leave heartprints.

 And if someone should say

"I felt your touch,"

May that one sense Your Love

touching through - me.