There’s a lot going on in Chicago, especially in the arts and other cultural opportunities. I love it and partake of quite a few offerings. And I know many of you do, too. Downtown, here in the south suburbs, the theater in Munster. Even if you’re not someone who has a strong interest in concerts or plays, stay with me if you can in your imagination. With so many offerings, how do you decide when to go, which events to attend? How do you pick a date? How do you choose between organizations? And, if you have a choice, how do you pick location and price for your seats?
As many of you know, I love opera. So that decision’s easy. I go to them all. And I sit in pretty good seats. But I also really enjoy the symphony. And there I need to pick and choose. I consider the program and soloists, looking for things I particularly like. I look at other things that may be on my calendar. I weigh the cost of the tickets, balancing what it feels like it’s worth, how much I can spare for at least a halfway decent seat.
Going to the symphony isn’t life or death. I didn’t have it in Maine. But I missed it. It profoundly enriches my life. So I’m very glad to have the world-class CSO right here and to be able to go when I can, or when the program particularly interests me. For the CSO, I don’t contribute beyond whatever ticket price I’ve settled upon. I do contribute to the opera. Although not to Lyric, per se. I leaf through the glossy program and see all those big time donors, philanthropic foundations, moguls of industry, mavens of society, and I figure with all those heavy hitters they don’t need me. My modest contribution wouldn’t mean much. So I support the Ryan Center, Lyric’s young artist training program for up and coming singers.
Does all of this sound at all familiar? Maybe you approach your cultural experiences the same way. Or maybe this is how you approach the Christian life.
I always get a bit depressed this time of year, the time of the annual pledge campaign. It feels like such a struggle. People become defensive, dismissive and small. It’s depressing to see people at their worst.
It certainly appears that a lot of people approach the Christian life much same way I approach the CSO. I know I do sometimes, which is why I think I can recognize it in others.
In this perspective the Christian life is an experience offered by an organization, the church. Partaking of the Christian life isn’t a matter of life or death. It is a commodity, offered by the church. It definitely enriches life, and is worthwhile and beneficial. Even more so than the CSO. But we approach the Christian life as a “consumer,” or an “outsider” who takes advantage of what the church offers when we choose, when we have the time or motivation, when we particularly like the program and our schedule permits.
It is wonderful that the church offers us the opportunity to experience the Christian life and we are very grateful to be able to take advantage of it and participate in its offerings. And we definitely get something out of the experience. Unlike the CSO, however, it’s totally free. Always. So we are left to decide how much money or time we’re willing to give to ensure the house stays open, the organization remains afloat. Like someone who attends the symphony, those decisions are based upon balancing other obligations, presumably some assessment of how much personal benefit we derive from experiencing what is offered, and our own judgment of how worthwhile the organization is. And, perhaps like me and Lyric, we consider whether our contribution will make a difference, be significant.
This is a perspective on the Christian life. It doesn’t have anything to do with how often you pray of how much you give. It’s a perspective. The perspective from the audience. Even if I go to the symphony every night and sit in the most expensive seats, my perspective is still from the audience. I am an individual choosing to take part in an experience offered by some organization.
You think I’m criticizing this perspective as an approach to the Christian life. I’m not. As an approach to the Christian life, sitting in the audience is much, much, much better than abstaining or total indifference. Thank God, and I mean this very sincerely, we have an organization like the church to expose us to a taste of the Christian experience. To get us started.
And most of our typical stewardship material is geared towards this perspective. We assure you that this organization, the church, is a worthwhile one and that it will use your contribution responsibly. We assure you that your contribution is needed and we urge you to really consider how much you value what the church offers you. Those are good things to think about.
But…
God offers us something so much more wondrous. God invites each of us, all of us out of the audience into the orchestra. Out of the audience into the chorus. To be participants in God’s own music making. To have a part in creating and bringing great beauty and hope into the world.
It’s a totally different perspective from the orchestra. No longer is music something you are given by some organization. It’s a part of you. This is who I am; this is what I do. All of me is involved in music making.
This time of year, you hear a lot about giving and offering, and the vestry is sharing some wonderful reflections on giving with you. But from the perspective of the orchestra, the words giving and offering don’t really have much meaning. Participation is the only word that makes sense. No one in an orchestra would ask, “How much of my music making ability shall I give to this performance? Shall I offer every tenth note?” In an orchestra, you can’t not make music. You play your part, with God’s help, as best you can.
God help us all to step out of the audience and join the orchestra.
This is all just a metaphor, of course. The Christian life is not dependent upon musical talent.
What does it feel like to be a part of God’s orchestra? Fulfilling. A powerful sense of being in the right place, free from fear and anxiety.
How do we actually get up from the audience into the orchestra? You’ll be glad Episcopalians typically don’t do altar calls. It’s too bad. It would hurt you to actually get up. But it is a conscious decision. Not so much to give your life to Jesus, as our more evangelical brothers and sisters might say. For me, it’s not so much a question of giving, as joining. Joining in a shared endeavor with God. Choosing to view every aspect of your life as coupled with God, joined with God’s purpose. Try it. It brings a deep joy and celebration to those endeavors that are, in fact, shared with God. And it makes it much easier to let go of those that are not shared with God. And if you are really, intentionally, consciously trying to join your whole life with God’s own being, you can usually tell the difference between what is shared with God’s desire and what is not.
For most people this is a very different perspective on spending money, but it’s gloriously freeing. Think of every act of spending money as coupled with God’s presence. Spending money is like playing in God’s orchestra. It doesn’t mean you have to give up everything you enjoy. In fact, it brings heavenly joy to those expenditures that are life-giving. And it makes it much easier to let go of those that are not.
A change of perspective. From the audience into the orchestra.
As important as this transition can be in our lives as Christians, in some ways the church itself does not help. Look at how this space is set up. It’s like a concert hall. You are the audience looking to the altar where the church presents God’s work to you.
And then there’s Communion. We can’t help but experience it as the church, as an organization, giving us a little bit of Jesus when and if we decide to come on any given Sunday. We do, by God’s grace, receive the living Christ when we come to Communion. Thank God. But no wonder we tend to think of the Christian life as being given an “experience of Christ” by the Church.
When Jesus shares himself with us in Holy Communion, we are receiving the fruits of his passion. The fruits of his passionate life and death. New life. Grace. Forgiveness. Hope. The fruits of Jesus’ passion.
To show compassion is to spread those fruits throughout the world. That is the music of God’s orchestra. To act with com-passion. To participate in bringing the fruits of Jesus’ passion to the world. Compassion. Any act that brings new life, grace, hope… and, I might add, wonder and beauty into the world.
It might be a word of concern or support. Or some shared new creation. Or a prayer of intercession on behalf of someone in need. Or sharing resources that you have with someone who needs them. Or walking hand-in-hand. Compassion. Any act that is a part of bringing the fruits of Jesus’ passion into the world.
And remember, too, as we all together pray with Jesus’ for new life and hope for one another in the world… all those prayers together will make glorious music, God’s music of hope and new life for the world.
