When liturgies forgets that all worship is waiting for the Lord, then we begin to worship our worship

A timely sermon by Martin Franzmann for our age of church charioteers who ride rough-shod through church in the name of leadership and missions, cracking their whips of worldly wisdom in an all out attempt to drive the flock of Christ so as to make the flock become more of a flock than the Good Shepherd saved, saves and continues to gather us to be. 
- pmwl

THE WAITING BRIDE OF CHRIST   (Whitsunday)

And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that hearer!: say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.

REVELATION 22:17

I believe in the Holy Spirit . . . . And I believe one holy Christian and apostolic church.... And I look for ... the life of the world to come.

These three belong together: the Holy Spirit, the church, and the hope of the world to come - one Spirit, one body, one hope of your calling.

The church, the waiting bride of Christ, is a fit subject for our contemplation on Pentecost, the Feast of the Holy Spirit.

Her song, "Come" is a fit subject for our singing.

Oh, come,

Thou Son of Man, who walkest amid the candle­sticks,

Whose eye is on the church,

O Thou, girt in splendor and robed in magnificent mercy,

Come!

O Thou Lamb of God that wast slain,

Thou that openest the seals of Thy Father's book,

Thou Lord of all happenings on earth -

Let the last riders of destruction ride their dreadful last -

Oh, come!

O Thou Rider upon the white horse,

Thou Over-comer of all opposing hosts,

O Thou Lord of lords and King of kings,

Oh, come, take up Thy power and reign!

Send out Thine angel armies into every highway, road, and lane,

Out into every hot and steaming pavement and all the stinking alleys of our world,

And make them cool and sweet and pleasant pathways for Thy feet.

Send out Thy re-creating angels, and let them shout for joy and take up the song of the primeval "Very Good!" once more.

Send Thy cleansing couriers out through every field and wood, and put the first morning's dew on every branch and leaf again.

Set free the groaning creation, set all free –

Till every little bird twitches his tail in ecstasy,

A living metronome for the angelic and unending

Alleluias of the world to come. Oh, come!

Such meditation and such song would he altogether seemly, altogether comely, in this Whitsuntide.

But we are being interrupted.

Here comes Freiherr (Baron) von (of) Aktivismus (Activism) with his company.

Here are Messrs (masters).

Here and Now (both muttering, "Let us have no eschatological non-sense, please!");

Here are Mr, Research and Mr. Statistics,

Mr. Graphs and Mr. Charts,

Mr. Extrapolation,

Mr. Civic Consciousness –

and to give the proceedings the benefit of her patrician air, Her Grace, the Countess of Misericordia (Merciful) Cum (when) Lacrimis (tears) Effusis (are flowing).

They have an indictment against the waiting bride, and they will make short shrift with her.

The trial will be a mere formality.

They have a branding iron hot and ready to impress upon her clear and innocent brow.

They will brand her with a capital Q, for she is guilty of quietism!

Who will save the waiting bride?

Who will appear in defense of her song?

Let St. Paul appear for the defense;

he is an apostle and knows a thing or two about the apostolic church.

"When my Lord sent me out into the cities of the Gentiles to raise up churches for His glory there,"

St. Paul says, "He bid me build into their lives a triple movement, a triple beat.

I bade men turn from idols;

serve the true and living God;

wait for His Son from heaven :..

even Jesus, who delivers us from the wrath to come. (1 Thess. 1:9, 10)

Let no one dare to change this triple beat;

let no one presume to shorten it to two - all three are necessary to the life and health of the church, all are indispensable.

I could tell you a sad story of what happened in Corinth when the church no longer said, "Come!"

What harlotries men practiced with their bodies when they forgot that these bodies were to be resurrected bodies.

"Moreover, Freiherr von Aktivismus (Baron of Activism), if you had not been so wrapped up with your graphs and your statistics, so ready and so eager with your capital Q, you might have considered who is singing, `Come.'

This is the Spirit singing.

If you want activity, have a look at Him.

He has been active since creation, active in history, rousing up a Gideon, for instance, more potent than the men and horses of Egypt;

He spake by the prophets - it was one of these men of the Spirit who was moved by Him to say, `I will have mercy and not sacrifice.'

Men full of the Spirit and wisdom looked after the widows and the fatherless in the Jerusalem church.

"It is the bride of Christ who sings, bone of His bone, flesh of His flesh, willing His will, the will of Him who said, `My Father has been working hitherto, and I work.'

"You might have considered also, Freiherr (Baron), to whom they are saying, `Come!

They are crying to Christ, who says, “Behold, I come quickly, and My reward is with Me, to give every man according as his work shall be.

They are invoking Judgment Day with their song.

"You might have noted also, all you capital Q gentry, how the inspired bride says, 'Come!'

She is inviting all men to join in the cry:

`Let him that hears say, Come!

And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.'

If you had not been so proud of your tears, Countess Misericordia (Merciful), you might have noted: She is not wallowing in her hope; she lives by it.

She who is ready to share the water of life will give more mundane waters too.

This dainty bride, this single-hearted and high-hearted girl, will have washed a dozen dirty babies and have kissed them too while you, Freiherr (Baron), are gathering statistics on the incidence of babies that need washing.

While you, countess, weep hot salt tears, she will have given fresh water and cool to thirsty travelers."

So far St. Paul.

"Travelers" - we cannot forget, if we live in the rhythm of St. Paul's triple beat, that our charity to travelers: drink to travelers on their way to Canaan, in the wilderness; food to travelers in the wilderness; tents for travelers in the wilderness, tents that they can strike and travel on again.

If we stop singing, "Come," our well-intentioned charity will trap men in the wilderness.

We shall build air-conditioned housing units in the wilderness, built to last a thousand years. Look at them - who would ever want to leave them? -each unit with a balcony looking toward Egypt affording a fine view of the fleshpots.

When the church no longer cries, "Come!"

when the church no longer looks to the end,

then means become ends;

that is, they become idols from which we can no longer turn to serve the living God.

Take this fine thing with the ominous name,

the church's "image";

the church that has forgotten her coming Lord

will worship her own "image" instead of her Lord.

Or let us move in close to home, to our theology.

What happens to exegesis,

when exegesis no longer says, "Maranatha!" (Our Lord comes)?

Exegesis can become an autonomous Wissenschaft (pursuit of scholarship), 

a cerebral vanity,

Fair complete with merry-go-rounds of exegetical fads,

with cunningly constructed mazes of conjectures and hypotheses,

with contending calliopes (loud music) that fill the air and intoxicate the senses,

but do not say, He comes, He comes to judge the earth,"

and do not shout, "Lift up your hearts!"

When liturgies forgets that all worship is waiting for the Lord,

then we begin to worship our worship

and to adore our adorations;

then we begin to genuflect before encrusted chasubles

and play the harlot under every green tree with esthetically selected traditions.

But where the Spirit is, there is liberty.

He sets us free, free from idols,

free to serve the living God.

He gives us a high hope that sets us free from ourselves, from grim introspection and fruitless preoccupation with our own religious psychology.

He sets us free, not least, for praise.

So let us forget that hot and searing capital Q.

Let us sing a little and live - and serve - a lot. Amen.

Martin H. Franzmann

Pgs 71-76 Ha! Ha! Among the Tempest.  

CPH 1994 

Thanks to my dear brother Rev. David Fleming for sharing this sermon with me.