Sermons
"You Lack One Thing"
Evangelical Lutheran Church in America Speaker
The Rev. Harvard Stephens
Carthage Baccalaureate, May 27, 2001
Luke 18:22
Isn't today a great day in the kingdom of God! Today, let us first honor God, because God has made this day possible. God woke you up this morning and brought you here and wrapped you in the power of the Holy Spirit, and now God presents you to the world, the Class of 2001. You are sons and daughters of the God who made heaven and earth; you are sisters & brothers of Jesus Christ; and you are the signs of answered prayer for the people who have loved you and encouraged you and taught you and supported you and believed in you, and now, who just enjoy you and praise God for what you have accomplished at Carthage. (In the words of Dr. Benjamin Mays) Some of you will graduate magna cum laude, some summa cum laude, and some others will simply say: Thank you, laude! Whoever you are today, God bless you!
Exactly one week ago, a very wealthy young man participated in the graduation ceremonies at the University of North Carolina. He flew into town on a private jet, donned his cap and gown, walked in with all the other graduates and received a bachelor's degree in African American studies. Years ago, he had left college to play professional basketball. But his parents were "old school", and although they appreciated the things that the family could now afford because their son had signed a big contract, they told him that education was still important. Perhaps he protested somewhat, saying: "I have worked hard, practiced long hours, and met the physical and mental demands of playing professional basketball." "All that is fine and good," they must have said, "but you lack one thing: You promised us that you would earn a college degree." So he continued to study and take courses while becoming a superstar in the NBA.
Exactly one week ago, at the age of 24, Vince Carter of the Toronto Raptors graduated from college on a Sunday morning and immediately flew from Chapel Hill to Philadelphia to play in the final game of a playoff series against the Philadelphia 76ers. As fate would have it, the game came down to one last shot, and Vince Carter took that shot. If the ball goes in, his team advances to the Conference finals. If he misses the shot, his team goes home, their season is over, and their hopes for a championship come to a sudden end. Let us leave that ball in the air for just a moment - with these words ringing in our ears: Vince Carter made a controversial decision. Vince Carter left his teammates and went to his college graduation on the same day he had to play in the biggest game of his life. Vince Carter, what were you thinking?
When today's Gospel lesson introduces "a certain ruler who came to Jesus," I think I recognize this man, and I think I even recognize what he was thinking. This man feels that he has done all the right things for all of his life. He was a good boy and now he is a successful man. He lives in a nice suburban house, he doesn't cheat on his wife, he doesn't play loud rap music, he doesn't wear baggy pants, he's never been in jail, he has good credit, he has a college degree, and he's probably a Lutheran. But when he looks Jesus in the eye and asks, "What must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus knows all too well that something is missing in his life. A certain ruler is not satisfied. He is not at peace. Something is pulling at his spirit.
This character represents many of us as we wrestle with the tension between what we have achieved and what we still must accomplish. "A certain ruler" could be the woman next to you on the treadmill at 5 a.m., pushing herself to look like a million dollars, even though she feels like two cents. Thinking of her difficult experiences in the competitive world of corporate culture, she says to herself: What else do I have to do? Something is pulling at her spirit.
"A certain ruler" could be the elderly white couple that just finished paying their home's mortgage five years ago, only to discover that their neighborhood is fast becoming black and brown and loud and not as pristine as it once was and filled with children who walk on their neighbor's grass. Thinking of all their plans and dreams now changed because of the demographic shift, they say to themselves: What else do we have to do? Something is pulling at their spirits.
"A certain ruler" could be the mother of Amadou Diallo, crying at her son's grave, unable to understand why her son could be shot down by police while standing in his own doorway. How could the place he called home become the wrong place at the wrong time? My son only wanted to find success in this country? What else do I have to do? Something is pulling at her spirit.
I suspect that something is pulling at your spirits right now. You have done well. You have come to this moment when your achievements will be acknowledged in the commencement exercises of Carthage. You can look Jesus in the eye and list many things that you have done, the many efforts you have made to make the best of your lives, to honor your parents and your community by keeping your promises and earning your degrees. But something is pulling at you as Jesus looks you in the eye and says: You lack one thing. Sell all you own, give the money to the poor, and come and follow me. For a certain ruler, these words were deflating and defeating. For the Class of 2001, I pray that Jesus' words can become empowering and exciting. They are words of invitation, words of transformation, and words of inspiration.
Imagine this. Look at it this way. Jesus seems to say: I know you better than you know yourselves. You can change the world! You have something of value. The world didn't give it to you, and the world can't take it away. It is the gift of the Holy Spirit. It is the fruit of your faith. It is the call of your destiny. It is the promise of the kingdom of God. It is the great possibility that what you receive today will be not an end, but a means to an end. It is the hope that you will discover that you have the power to not only work and to earn, but to give and to bless. Something is pulling at your spirit because you are the Class of 2001, the first class of the 21st century. You understand hard drives and zip files. You will work in a global community, in a marketplace limited only by the means of communication. You easily ponder the impact of biotechnology and the possibility of interplanetary travel. But you lack one thing.
Years ago, my parents taught me to sing a song about life, and struggle, and hard decisions. This was a song sung by people who were risking everything because they believed that racial injustice and poverty could be vanquished. They struggled despite physical threats, public criticism, and their own self doubt, often second guessing their leaders and themselves. Today that song continues to remind me that Jesus still wants me to change the world and to begin by my changing myself. This is the song that keeps me sane when the world around me goes mad. This is the song that inspires my by saying simply: The one thing we did right was the day we decided to fight. Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on.
You lack one thing, Harvard Stephens. I hear it all the time. But I also hear the anthem coming from the world of my great ancestors, the world of my most courageous contemporaries, the world of risk takers and visionaries and lovers of truth and justice, the world that challenges me with the sacred tension that always exists between life's greatest achievements and life's unfinished work. You lack one thing, but yet you have the right to recognize and celebrate the things you have done right. I thank God for my marriage to Linda: one thing I did right. I thank God for my ordination as a Lutheran pastor: one thing I did right. I thank God for the hours I have spent with young men looking for someone to guide them and trust them and love them despite all the mistakes that had already marked their young lives: one thing I did right.
You all know by now that on last Sunday Vince Carter missed that last shot and his team lost the game. But one thing he did right last Sunday was to honor his promise to his parents and wear his cap and gown and forget about all the criticism that was coming his way because he made his decision to make college graduation a priority. The one thing he did right was to take a shot at another goal, and that shot hit its mark. That goal was reached. That contest was won.
Class of 2001, Jesus will always love you enough to challenge you to change the world, again and again. As you wrestle with what you must do to fulfill your destiny in God, have courage and never forget that all along the way, you have a song to sing, a song that celebrates the good news that by the grace of God, you have done something right. Look around! God has made this day possible. God woke you up this morning and brought you here and wrapped you in the power of the Holy Spirit, and now God presents you to the world, the Class of 2001. You are sons and daughters of the God who made heaven and earth; you are sisters and brothers of Jesus Christ; and you are the signs of answered prayer for the people who love you best. Some of you will graduate magna cum laude, some summa cum laude, but all of you must say: this is one thing we did right! Whoever you are today, may God bless you and keep you with a holy power, and may God give you peace. Amen.