A Room
Without a Roof
A Sermon
Presented to St. Charles Avenue Baptist Church
By Stephanie
Little Coyne
April 27,
2014
· In the
1930s, Louis Armstrong told us why he was happy in the song, “I’ve Got the
World on String:”
I’ve got the
world on a string, I’m sittin’ on a rainbow, got the string around my finger,
what a world, what life, I’m in love!
· In the 40s,
Disney told us that we could be happy with a simple wish and dream:
When you
wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are. Anything your heart desires will come to
you.
· In the 50s,
Gene Kelly, Donald O’Connor, and Debbie Reynolds expressed their collective
determination to be happy as they danced and sang:
I’m singing
in the rain, just singing in the rain.
What a glorious feelin’, I’m happy again!
Nat King Cole crooned to us words
of encouragement:
Smile,
though your heart is aching, smile even though it’s breaking. When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get
by.
· In the 60s,
Jimmy Durante suggested,
Make someone happy, make just one someone
happy, and you will be happy too.
Linda Ronstadt had us all yearn
for begotten days of happiness, praying that they would one day return:
Where the folks are fine and the world is
mine on Blue Bayou.
And George Harrison helped us to
move from underneath the clouds,
Here comes
the sun, here comes the sun and I say, it’s all right. Sun, sun, sun, here it comes.
· In the 70s
and 80s, we were carried on a wave of happiness with the Allman brothers urging
us to
walk along
the river, the sweet lullaby, it just keeps on flowing; it don’t worry ‘bout
where it’s going, no, no.
Kool and the Gang pressed us to
Celebrate the good times, come on!
and Bobby McFerrin insisted that
we
Don’t worry, be happy.
· In the
wonderful music world of the 90s, the great band from Athens, GA, R.E.M.,
affirmed that we were all “Shiny, Happy People,” thereby promoting world
happiness with the message
Everyone
around, love them, love them. Put it in
your hands, take it, take it. There’s no
time to cry, happy, happy. Put it in
your heart where tomorrow shines.
· All this
brings us to the song that is popping up all over the place. Pharrell Williams’, “Happy,” is a request on
his behalf to find out what it is that makes you happy. The song also carries some sense of arrogant indifference—“I’m
going to be happy regardless of you.” But
with the call, “Because I’m happy, and the response, “clap along if you feel
like a room without a roof,” Williams suggests that world is a place of limitless
possibilities if you can just be happy.
Decade after
decade, we have been invited to chase after happiness, sometimes portrayed as an
elusive state of mind, and other times portrayed as easily and quickly
attainable. Pharrell’s line, “a room
without a roof,” has prompted me to look at a story that I believe contains
true happiness.
Join with me
as we read together Luke 5: 17-26.
17One day,
while Jesus [he] was teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting
nearby (they had come from every village of Galilee and Judea and from
Jerusalem); and the power of the Lord was with him to heal.
18Just then
some men came, carrying a paralyzed man on a bed. They were trying to bring him in and lay him
before Jesus; 19but finding no way to bring him in because of the
crowd, they went up on the roof and let him down with his bed through the tiles
into the middle of the crowd in front of Jesus.
20When he saw their faith, he said, “Friend, your sins are
forgiven you.”
21Then the
scribes and the Pharisees began to question, “Who is this who is speaking
blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but
God alone?
22When Jesus
perceived their questionings, he answered them, “Why do you raise such
questions in your hearts? 23Which
is easier to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and
walk’?
24But so that
you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he
said to the one who was paralyzed—“I say to you, stand up and take your bed and
go to your home.”
25Immediately,
he stood up before them, took what he had been lying on, and went to his home,
glorifying God.
26Amazement
seized all of them, and they glorified God and were filled with awe, saying,
“We have seen strange things today.”
A roof opened and light rushed inside.
What a scene
of revelation and joy! The story of the
paralyzed man just reeks with happiness!
Early in
Genesis, we are told that humans are made in the image of God. Theodore Clark, author of Saved by His Life, a wonderful gift to
me from Paul Powell, instructs that this image of God, the “imago dei,”
combines with the earthly part of humans and creates what is the ultimate
possibility in us as children of God.[1]
Friends, I
am certain that my calling is deeply imbedded in the notion that I am happiest,
freest, most loving, and most living up to the “imago dei” in me when I am able
to help someone else or make someone else happy. Sure, there are a pair of black leather shoes
that I think would make me happier and I am sure that on more than one occasion
a bag of peanut M&Ms has made me smile with satisfaction. But truly nothing is as lasting and as
fulfilling as living out that calling.
I am also
certain that this notion is not just my own to consider. And what Jesus says is the greatest
commandment is not my own to follow. I
believe that when we, all Christians, truly tap into that image of God within
us, we find that our happiness and our fulfillment is in direct correlation
with what we are doing for and with other people in this world.
The paralyzed
man goes home, presumably dancing and singing all the way; the crowd is dancing
and singing in the aisles and they can’t even fathom why they are so happy! Hear again the last part of the story
translated for us by Clarence Jordan in his Cotton Patch Gospel of Luke,
Jesus [he] said to the paralyzed man—‘Get up,
pick up your stretcher and run along home.’
Right away he got up in front of everybody, picked up the stretcher he
had been lying on, and went home shouting God’s praises. The crowd went into ecstasy and started
shouting God’s praises too. They were
filled with awe, and said, ‘We’ve seen something today so wonderful we can’t
understand it.’[2]
The scene on
the ground must have been something else!
But can you imagine what it must have been like on the roof? Or what was left of the roof?
I believe
that in each of the paralyzed man’s friends, the earthly human connected with
the “imago dei” in the human, and light
streamed through those friends and into that house.
In “The
Divine Comedy,” Dante’s poetry speaks beautifully about his character’s path
out of purgatory with images that I think are befitting to our connection
between humans and God:
So keenly did the living radiance pierce into
me that I think I had been undone had mine eyes faltered from the light
averse…Verily I think I saw with mine own eyes the form that knits the whole
world, since I taste, in telling of it, more abounding bliss…Already on my
desire and will prevailed the Love that moves the sun and the other stars.[3]
We live in
and we get stuck in the dichotomies of life through our culture. Yes, R.E.M. sang “Shiny, Happy People,” but
they also sang “Everybody Hurts” and their words convinced you that it was okay
to hurt. We are told to be confident and
to be humble, to lean in and to lean out.
We are told that being healthy is beautiful and then we are pummeled
with images of bodies that in no way can be healthy. Youth, you are told to relax and enjoy your
youthfulness and you are also told to maintain your best and grow up. We live
in a society that is unrealistic, demanding, and intrusive.
And the
church (at large) is, at times, no different than society is about letting the gray
areas of life exist. The church is
confused and is thereby confusing. We
are desperately trying to fit into culture, to make church-going more appealing
to culture, and we are manipulated by our egotistical belief that we can make
everyone happy. But is that why the
church exists? Are we here to make
people happy? Is that our sole product?
When we see the life of Jesus and we pay
attention to his counter-cultural instruction—fish on the other side of the
boat, lay down your swords, turn over some wrongly placed tables—we see that
Jesus was only concerned with making God’s love accessible. He wasn’t interested in making people happy
with social clubs or church basketball leagues, though he undoubtedly valued the
fellowship of believers. Jesus’
investment in people was through teaching,
healing, and loving them in ways not seen before.
When we study the life of Jesus, we see
Emmanuel, God with us, and we see Jesus living in and experiencing the dichotomies
of life. We see that “imago dei” played
out for us in what is an incredibly difficult concept to understand. I don’t get it. I don’t know how Jesus was both human and
God. I would have been a terrible Chalcedon
council member. The important thing to
me is that God thought it was important to know what it was like to be human,
mortal and tempted by sin, and all the while, in the midst of that dichotomy to
teach and heal and love.
When we act according to the life of Jesus, we act
like friends leading their paralyzed friend through a crowd. When we act faithfully in that life, we bring
others to hear the teachings of Jesus and
to experience the healing Jesus offers, all through showing love courageously
enough. Happiness may not be our initial goal, but it can often be an awesome
byproduct of our faith.
In our story
today, the joy of the moment is nearly dulled and dominated by the presence of
the Pharisees and the scribes. They are
seated in the front, presumably up close to Jesus, and while this seems
harmless and perhaps an even good move on their part—they got to the gig before everyone else—Justo González
points out that they are blocking the way to Jesus for the paralytic man and
his friends and anyone else who might need Jesus’ words and Jesus’ touch.[4]
Are we so
caught up in our own needs and desires that we block the way to Jesus for
others? Are we so worried about holes in
the roof and our subsequent risk of exposure that we inadvertently close off
ways for people to get inside? Are we so
busy with questions and confusion that we nearly miss scenes of joy and
miracles?
Reverend
Christopher Henry recalls a story told by Fred Craddock at one of his preaching
workshops in Cherry Log, Georgia. Craddock
spoke of an opportunity he had to meet Albert Schweitzer, theologian, biblical
scholar, doctor, and humanitarian, after Schweitzer’s book, The Quest of the Historical Jesus, was
published. Filled with questions and
debate, Craddock rode a bus to an organ recital Schweitzer was to give in
Cleveland, Ohio, in hopes that he could discuss, perhaps even challenge
Schweitzer on his conclusions.
Henry
writes, “Craddock wasn’t interested in the beautiful architecture of the church
or the sacred music masterfully played.
All through the recital, Craddock was anxiously waiting for his moment
to take Schweitzer to task for his paper-thin Jesus.” But at the end of the recital, when all were
gathered together to hear Dr. Schweitzer speak, Schweitzer stepped to the
podium and said, ‘I appreciate the hospitality of you all and of this
church. I’d like to stay longer and take
questions, but I can’t. My patients in
Africa need me. They are dying, children
and their mothers and fathers, dying at home.
I have to go. But if you have the
love of Jesus in your heart, maybe you will come with me?” With that, Schweitzer left and Craddock
looked down at his legal pad full of criticism and felt it all to be
irrelevant.[5]
Craddock
missed the beauty of the place he had been given opportunity to enjoy; he missed
the inspiration of the music; and he missed the “big point” in his own effort
to find the historical Jesus. Schweitzer
redirected his eyes toward Jesus, the man of love and healing.
My pastor in
my home church, Dr. Jon Appleton, would sometimes move out of the pulpit during
his sermons and down the steps of the platform.
It was in these moments of movement that he conveyed that he wanted you
to sit up a little straighter and listen a little more intently. So, imagine my doing that now.
Why these
words on Youth Sunday? Why draw you in
with pop culture references only to then reference old theologians and Dante? Because this
will fall to you. This will become what you make of it. This
is both your inheritance and your responsibility. Hard, huh?
But I believe in you. I believe
in you even though I know that there are moments and days and longer days when
you aren’t sure that you believe. Maybe
you just want to be a nice person. Maybe
you just want to a have a good job that is fulfilling. Maybe you just want to see what crazy things
life has to offer you, outside of this crazy-enough city. And all of that is fine…within reason.
But I do
believe that the “imago dei,” the image of God that most certainly resides in
you, will be reflected for you in the mirror of your soul and that at some
point, you will be struck with the desire to find out more about this Christian
life.
It’s not
going to come without some demands—you will have to make some demands of the
current church—to teach you, and we do
have some things to teach, to share with you, and we do have some things to share, to start making the “now”
better, and we do have to make some
things better, we have some tables to overturn. You will also have to make some demands of
yourself. This life is not always easy
and a church that tries to make it easy and make it yummy and happy isn’t
telling you the whole story. And the church
that tries to scare you into believing in God’s grace hasn’t heard the true
story themselves.
Go see what
you can do. There is goodness in you. Go make someone happy. Go feel like a room without a roof and go
lower someone through that open roof. And
then watch out—you will get to see Jesus too, you’ll have a perfect view—you will
get to see miracles that will have you dancing and singing and clapping your
hands, saying, “We have seen some crazy things today! Alleluia!”
[1]
Clark, Theodore. Saved by His Life. New York:
The Macmillan Company, 1959.
[2]
Jordan, Clarence. The Cotton Patch Version of Luke and Acts. New York: Association Press, 1969.
[3]
Translation found in Clark, Theodore. Saved by His Life. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1959.
[4]
González, Justo L. Luke. Louisville,
Ky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010.
[5]
Henry, Reverend
Christopher A. Henry. “Left Behind.” A Sermon given to Morningside Presbyterian
Church in Atlanta, GA. 2010.
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