Wax On.  Wax Off.

Only live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ,

so that, whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you,

I will know that you are standing firm.

 

Keep on doing the things that you have learned

and received and heard and seen in me,

and the God of peace be with you.

(Philippians 1:27; 4:9)

Scripture lessons:  Philippians 1:3-6, 27; 2:5-11; 3:10-14; 4:4-9, 11b-13

 

 

A sermon by Siegfried S. Johnson on the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, June 24, 2007

Volume 2, Number 1

First United Methodist Church, 605 West Sixth, Mountain Home, Arkansas 72653

 

 

Imagine that we’ve videotaped your kitchen this week, 24-7, ready this morning to project This-Week-In-Your-Kitchen for all to share the images of your domestic enclave in Ordinary Time.  We’ll run it in super Fast Forward, the entire week in120 seconds.  There you are, scampering herky-jerky in and out of your kitchen, flitting from refrigerator to stove, now counter-top to table, now forking and spooning food into your mouth at lightning speed.  Now up and to the sink.  Now bending down to the dishwasher and up again -- down and up, down and up, Over and Over.  Then, you’re gone.  No eating out allowed this week, by the way.  We have you on video prepping and consuming three meals a day -- 21 total visits to the kitchen, not including snacks and peeks into the frig. 

 

What would such an experiment, a hyper-speed exposure of Kitchen Ordinary Time, teach us?  Perhaps, primarily, we would learn that life is a perpetual shifting between order and disorder.  Over and Over the chaos of dirty dishes pile up, then diminish and disappear as all is put back in its place.  Order to chaos.  Chaos to order.  Order to chaos.  Over and Over and Over.

 

When our girls were little, one of the most popular films for kids was Karate Kid, released in 1984.  Talk about Over and Over and Over.  With mundane repetition dad (moi) was persuaded to watch with them.  I didn’t much mind, honestly.  In fact, I found a sermon in the film, indeed one would be blind not to see that the film was a sermon for kids, a sermon on the importance of mastering fundamentals, on what it means to live with discipline and honor, and on what it means to trust one’s teachers (even when wondering, “How can this possibly be important?”). 

 

Young Daniel, a newcomer to a California city, feels isolated and threatened by school bullies, especially those on the karate team.  Daniel wants to learn how to defend himself and sees a way to do that when he is befriended by the handyman taking care of the apartment building where he and his single parent mom live.  This mysterious Mr. Miyagi is from Okinawa, and Daniel begs Mr. Miyagi to teach him karate.  At first reluctant, Miyagi at last agrees to mentor Daniel, laying down one condition, that Daniel must submit to his instruction and not question his methods. 

 

Daniel accepts this condition and shows up the next morning eager to learn karate.  Instead of a karate lesson, Mr. Miyagi tells Daniel to paint the long fence surrounding his house.  He shows him the precise motions of applying the paint — up and down — and then leaves to go fishing.  Daniel seethes during the long, hot workday, wondering, “Is this any way to learn karate?”   He has promised, though, that he would not question his teacher, so remains silent.

 

Thinking the task to have been some sort of odd initiation, Daniel appears at Mr. Miyagi’s house the next day excited to beginning training.  Now Miyagi tells Daniel to scrub the deck behind his house.  Once again, an exact method of doing the job is prescribed and, once again, he leaves to enjoy a day of recreation.  Caught in the drudgery of the task, Daniel wonders again, “What can this possibly have to do with karate?”  Still, Daniel, true to his promise, remains silent. 

 

The task finished, Daniel shows up a third time.  Mr. Miyagi tells Daniel to wash and wax three cars, again prescribing the precise circular motions to put the wax on, and the reverse to take the wax off.  Daniel completes the job, but has now reached the limit of his patience.  When Mr. Miyagi returns from a relaxing day, Daniel finally questions his methods.  “I thought you were going to teach me karate.  But you just wanted someone to do your chores!”

 

Daniel has broken Miyagi’s rule.  “I have been teaching you karate!  Defend yourself!” As Mr. Miyagi advances toward Daniel with offensive karate moves, the motions Daniel has been mundanely repeating countless times in the drudgery of these many hours are now put into action.  “Show me, paint the fence,” Miyagi says, and those motions, once accomplished seemingly without purpose, now block each offensive thrust.  Each motion — “Show me, Wax on.  Show me, Wax off” — now instinctively protects Daniel from a specific attack.

 

Stunned at what he has done, what seemingly pointless days of drudgery have taught him to do, Daniel’s Wondering is turned into Wonder.  Lesson over, Miyagi bows and walks away, leaving Daniel in a daze.  Daniel understands now that what he had imagined was meaningless chaos was in fact full of purpose.  Daniel has learned a valuable lesson which goes beyond karate, that success comes from the discipline of repeating the fundamentals Over and Over and Over.  The foundation of success is in emptying oneself of presumption, becoming obedient to the tasks prescribed by mentors, and persevering in the mastering of fundamentals.  This lesson takes Daniel all the way to the ultimate prize in the championship karate match, and then stays with him his entire life (not to mention several sequels!).

 

We read earlier selected passages from each of the four chapters of Philippians.  Paul’s letter to the church at Philippi is a lesson in emptying oneself of presumption and of living honorably by persevering in the fundamentals of Christian faith and life.  Paul urges us to have the “same mind” as Jesus who, “though he thought it not robbery to be equal with God, emptied himself and became a slave, becoming obedient to death, even the death of the cross.” 

 

Paul urges, “Only live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that, whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will know that you are standing firm.”  Like Mr. Miyagi, who left Daniel to the chores that he knew would invest life with honor, Paul urges steadfastness in the faith, whether the teacher is present or absent.  

 

Paul writes, “Keep on doing the things you have learned and received and heard and seen in me.”  I can hear Miyagi saying this to Daniel, and Daniel persevering when the tasks became hard, learning that “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” 

 

This is why I wanted us to pray the Wesleyan Covenant Prayer this morning: 

 

I am no longer my own, but thine.  Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.  Put me to doing, put me to suffering.  Let me be employed by thee or laid aside for thee, exalted for thee or brought low for thee.  Let me be full, let me be empty.  Let me have all things, let me have nothing.  I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal.  And now, O Glorious and Blessed God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, thou art mine, and I am thine.  So be it.  And the covenant which I have made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven.  Amen.

 

Perhaps you found these words to be quite odd, as odd as Daniel regarded the chores with which Miyagi tasked him.  Many are the expression of Christianity in our culture which would, I think, see as little relevance in these words to our Christian living as Daniel saw in Wax On, Wax Off. 

 

“I am no longer my own, but thine.”  Can we speak to God and Daniel to Mr. Miyagi, “I empty myself of my desires in order to become obedient to your instruction?” 

 

“Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.  Put me to doing, put me to

suffering . . .  Let me be full, let me be empty.  Let me have all things, let me have nothing.”  How like Paul, who said to the Philippians, “I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty.  In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry – I can do all things through Christ”).  

 

The motif of God as teacher (brought out in using Miyagi as a analogy of spiritual formation technique) illustrates the teacher/student dynamic, the importance of the day-to-day, Over and Over quality of Ordinary Time.  For the student in the midst of the day-to-day experience of education, the grandeur of the lessons can easily become lost.  “How could this possibly be important?” is a refrain for grumbling students who don’t yet have eyes to see the final outcome of education. 

 

Any writer or teacher (and to the extent that sermon-making is a teaching endeavor and not merely an inspirational task, I share in this) revels in the moment when, for the student, it all comes together.  A good novelist may have several strands of plot working at different angles, but when it all comes together, the reader is able to transform Wondering into Wonder.  A teacher may have, over a semester, several tasks that seem unrelated to the goal of the course. But when it all comes together, the teacher’s highest joy is to see the students’ eyes open.  Perhaps the highest compliment I ever receive as to sermon delivery falls into this category – “Pastor, I just didn’t see where you were going.  You had me Wondering, ‘How could this be important?’ but then it all came together, and I understood where you were taking us, and why you wanted to take us down this path.”

 

 

In short, any teacher seeks that Eureka, “Ah-hah,” moment in the student, when the student discovers for themselves how it all fits together.  Now they don’t merely have an answer, but they’ve learned a pathway to gaining answers to any question.  That’s the moment when Miyagi bows and turns and walks away with a smile, knowing the student’s mind and heart have discovered a new path.

 

There is no short-cut in this process.  Some things can only be learned only when accomplished Over and Over and Over.  I began by imagining a video cam on your kitchen 24-7, an Ordinary week of 21 meals.  I want to conclude by talking about 23 weeks on the church’s liturgical calendar, the season of Pentecost.  Today is the 4^th Sunday after Pentecost, a season which will continue to the 23^rd week after Pentecost, the Sunday before Thanksgiving in late November.  Interesting that in some liturgical traditions this season is known by as Ordinary Time.  Twenty-three Sundays is nearly half the year, and through it all our liturgical color is green.  WE may tire of this Ordinary green, longing for richer colors – the Purple of Advent in December as we prepare for the coming of the Christ, the White of Christmas Day on December 25 and of Epiphany on January 6.  The Purple of Lent and the White of Easter and its 7 Sundays in the Great 50 Days of Easter, culminating in the brilliant Red of Pentecost Sunday. 

 

In Warren I had an Altar Guild chair who couldn’t abide the thought of the boring green all summer.  Each year she would put in a request, “Pastor, can we keep red up for a month or two? It’s a more exciting color and I grow so tired of the green paraments and stoles.  Let’s have a splash of color.”  Yes, it’s easy to be bored with green for 23 weeks, as Daniel was bored with Wax On, Wax Off.  It’s tempting to opt to substitute red.  Yet, there is a spiritually subtle reason for the long run of green.  Does it not increase our longing for the brilliant white of Christ the King Sunday?  When we come to church on that Christ the King Sunday, liturgically hypnotized by a long summer of green, to be greeted with a sanctuary of white can be a Eureka moment, a moment when Wondering is replaced by Wonder.

 

Pentecost reminds us that our Christian life is a journey through Ordinary Time.  Suppose we had a video camera on our Sanctuary for all of these 23 weeks, and then viewed it in super Fast Forward.  We would see the worshippers congregating and dispersing, Over and Over and Over,  rising to sing and praise, sitting to pray and listen.  Over and Over and Over.  To what purpose?  What are we learning?  How does our obedience to the spiritual disciplines, the fundamentals of making worship a regular, Ordinary part of our week – how does this strengthen ourselves, our families, our communities?

 

Well, as Daniel had to learn the answer to this question himself, I will leave the conclusion of this sermon to you.  May your Wondering be replaced with Wonder.