Below, for your consideration and reflection, is the sermon from Bethel's February 20, 2005 Sunday Morning worship service.

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Practicing Faith in the Digital Age

Table talk at dinner a week or so ago in the Sherrod household included a conversation with Hannah’s boyfriend, Eric, who will soon be making his acting/singing/dancing debut at Hiwasee College in a musical called “The Children of Cain.” When we asked him how the play was coming along, he just kind of shook his head and laughed, muttering something about not being so sure he was cut out for the singing and dancing part. Which, of course, immediately drew a word of encouragement from my wife to him about me, since, she told him, “if Marc can do it, then anybody can.”

What she was referring to was my own Andy Warhol three minutes of fame as a high school senior when I had the lead role as Georg Von Trapp in the Rogers and Hamerstein musical, the beloved classic, The Sound of Music. She never tires of seizing any opportunity to wonder out loud about how in the world I could get a lead role that required so much singing, not to mention a bit of dancing thrown in. But, as I like to tell her, the best part was when I was told by our drama and chorus director to take my co-lead, Maria, after play practice, out to the drive-in so we could practice the kissing scenes. It’s amazing what rising stars have to put up with!

This is a roundabout way of getting to the text for today, Psalm 121, which happened to be the passage that myself and the whole cast of our high school production had to memorize one Saturday at the end of play practice. If you remember the last scene from the play, the Captain, Maria (played by Julie Andrews) and their whole brood of marvelously talented singing children, have barely escaped the Nazis and are now about to set off on foot across the Alps toward freedom in the west. To give that closing scene its full solemnity, each of us, as we came down off the stage and walked down the aisle of the high school auditorium, which would then become a narrow passage through the mountains, we each were silently to recite this Psalm, with only our lips moving, as we looked to “the hills from whence does my help come.”

All jokes aside, it was and remains, one of life’s more exhilarating moments, to share in that kind of dedication to a common purpose with one’s peers and to share the fruits of one’s labors with an appreciative community.

And so, Psalm 121 always takes me back. It’s one of those psalms that can inspire a sense of nostalgia, and that like the 23^rd Psalm, has a power all of its own to speak to the human situation of seeking God’s comfort under trying circumstances.

It would, perhaps, seem a text quite unsuitable to be paired with the title of today’s sermon, “Practicing Faith in a Digital Age.”

Psalm 121 suggests the solitude of the soul’s pilgrimage across the rocky wilderness and that timeless encounter with one’s creator God out in the vast unknown. The pilgrim may grow lonely or afraid, yet he or she is never alone. The Lord will not permit you to slip and fall, the Lord watches over you through the night, the Lord will shield you from the heat of the sun, the Lord will watch over your going out and your coming in, from this time forth, and forevermore.

Thus, the ancient pilgrim’s winding journey up to Jerusalem was a journey of confidence, knowing that whatever evil or perils came across his path, he had never to fear a loss of the Lord’s promised presence.

The assertion that today we practice faith in a digital age seems much less universal, much less enduring than the experience of the Psalmist. Our contemporary reliance on computers and cell phones and all sorts of digital gadgets seems trendy and faddish when measured against the great sweep of history and change and the timeless quality of the Psalmist’s reliance on God’s providential care.

Truth is, technology continues to transform American life. Some of the changes are conspicuous and some are subtle. Some changes appear as blessings, others seem more like curses. Those who are baby boomers or older among us probably feel like immigrants who are learning new practices and achieving some technological competency but will never feel “native born.” On the other hand, most American teenagers and young adults are totally immersed in the digital culture and are fluent multi-taskers, able to simultaneously follow five Instant Message conversations on a screen while doing homework, listening to downloaded music, answering their cell phone, and fending off adult questions about their ability to concentrate.

From personal computers to the internet to palm pilots able to store more information than my brain could ever absorb, these products appear to simplify life and give us what we want in a more effective and efficient way than ever before.

I had never seen this before from a church leader, but Wednesday when I went to Maryville College to hear our denomination’s moderator, Rick Ufford-Chase, speak, he stood not behind a pulpit or lectern, but with only a skinny microphone between him and his audience, and without any notes. What’s more, when he quoted a couple of poems, he reached over to a music stand he had earlier pushed out of the way, got his palm pilot, asked us to hold on a second, scrolled to the text he wanted, and then read it to us. His whole demeanor, to me, echoed the digital age – he was dressed casually in jeans and cowboy boots and a button down shirt, with the only indication of his religious importance a cross hanging from his neck. His style of communication was informal but oh so powerful . . . conversational, but not preachy at all, and I almost felt as if he and I were having a life-changing discussion over a cup of coffee at Starbucks. Immediately I knew that here was someone who knows that we live in a new age that requires a new way of speaking, a new way of communicating.

Of course, we rightly ask, is there a danger that devices can lure us into private, technologically dependent worlds where we become isolated from face-to-face contact with other people? How can people of faith navigate through these strong currents of change to claim the blessings while avoiding the curses? What practices can help us find our way? How can we practice the ancient faith of the Psalmist in light of living in our own digital age?

One key, I believe, is in scripture itself. Protestants and Presbyterians should know this teaching from scripture well. Abraham went out towards an unknown destination, yet trusting that God would guide him there; the Psalmist doesn’t know what dangers or adventure await around the next bend, but his pilgrimage continues; and Nicodemus is important, not so much because Jesus spoke to him the most often quoted verse in the Bible, but because he was a curious man, a God-seeker, this Nicodemus who comes to Jesus at night, and Jesus teaches him to think in new ways about the same old religious questions, the core questions about the meaning of human existence and purpose.

Like Nicodemus, I believe we find ourselves in desperate need of new ways to adapt the old, old story to the reality and uniqueness of our own age.

I was forwarded, via email and via the kindness of Bethel’s own webmaster, which is telling in and of itself because we had not this volunteer position of webmaster three years ago, a very interesting press release of a talk given by the Methodist futurist Leonard Sweet at a recent gathering of Presbyterians. He said that because reformation and innovation are part of our genetic make-up, we Presbyterians – in our own way of being the church -- should be leading the electronic revolution of the current world-wide digital transformation. So, why aren’t we, he asks?

Here are some excerpts from his talk.

“Presbyterians have so mastered the book culture they seem now to be the most challenged by the electronic revolution.” He offered the acronymn EPIC – Experiential, Participatory, Image-rich, and Connectional, and said the church must embrace this new way of being Church if we are going to survive and be a transformational force in the world. Experiential. Participatory. Image-rich. Connection.

The greatest cultural metaphor for this revolution and how to creatively adapt to it is Starbucks, says Sweet. ‘Why are people willing to spend $3 for a cup of coffee that we would only spend 50 cents on before? It’s because they’re not selling you a cup of coffee; they’re selling you the experience of coffee. Starbucks has become American’s front porch, a place where people feel they belong and can just hang out. . . Images have replaced words as the conveyors of meaning. Every Starbucks cup looks the same, all the stores have the same look and feel.—they don’t need to tell you anything with words. Same with Nike – you see the swoosh and that’s all you need to know. Every church should have an image statement. There is no logos without the logo. . . Starbucks’ willingness to be America’s new “front porch” and its success at being the connecting point in countless communities should be a lesson to the church that there is a desperate need for connection, for relationship. And when the church fails to provide that connection, the culture will surely find ways to do it instead of through the church – just look at Oprah and Dr. Phil. (PCUSA<NEWS, 2/3/05)

Now what does all of that mean for the Bethel Presbyterian Church? Does it mean that we need to adapt our building plans so that the deck off the back of the educational building includes a Starbucks? Are you kidding? Well, have you ever really, really thought about the possibilities . . . .

Which segways into the second key for practicing faith in this digital age. This is harsher-sounding and a bit more of a direct wake-up call. I should ask everyone here today who is between the ages of 20 and 40 to stand up. If I did that, how many would arise? Four, five, six individuals, maybe? Point is, we have failed to reach the aged people a church with a future really needs the most, not all to discount the contributions of all the rest of us, the vast majority of whom are over 40.

We can talk all we want and celebrate our friendliness, the sense of caring for one another, our presence in the community and all that, but the twenty to forty crowd, open your eyes -- they ain’t here, and neither are their children. We can design and construct the best remodeled building that money can buy, but truth is, in two or three more generations, if something doesn’t change with our church demographics, this church as we know it won’t exist . . . if they ain’t here.

I know the reasons as well as you. Lost their faith in college; too busy during the week and need time to relax on the weekend; when they have children, they’ll be back. But I think there is actually a much bigger crisis of meaning in people’s lives and we haven’t figured out how to address the deep spiritual needs and even deeper spiritual hunger of that generation. Leonard Sweet says, “the church must create participatory experiences that connect people with each other in meaningful relationship. ‘Ask young people whether they find more meaningful connection in their Internet chat rooms on Saturday night or in the pews of your church on Sunday morning.’ I, for one, am almost afraid to hear the answer.

Nicodemus came to Jesus at night, a rather odd time in 1^st century Palestine for a rabbi and a leader among the Pharisees to meet, under cover of darkness, as it were. What we forget, however, is that Jesus was available to him at that late hour, and perhaps most importantly, it wasn’t even 11:00 on Sunday morning. I know, I know. Aside from the 1776 variety, Presbyterians are not much on revolution under any name or doing things differently. You probably have heard the old jokes about “how many does it take?” variety

Q. How many telemarketers does it take to change a light bulb
R. Only one. But he has to do it while you’re eating dinner.

Q. How many Floridians does it take to change a light bulb?
R. Don’t know for sure. They’re still counting.

My personal favorite:

Q. How many Presbyterians does it take to change a light bulb?
R. Change????

But if we are going to connect with the unchurched generation, then we will have to find ways to get on board with the digital revolution in our society and we will have to learn that images can mean almost everything to some people, that the word “church” probably won’t convey the same picture to an unchurched thirty-something person as it conveys to you.

The third key is in an article I came across in a month-old Newsweek Magazine which I pilfered from Jon Loden’s auto body shop when I was waiting to have some new tires put on this past Friday. Truth is, I have a copy of the same Newsweek somewhere in my house but never seem to find the time to read it. The article is entitled “Artful Aging.” It says, “researchers who investigate longevity are discovering that old age can be a peak period for creativity.” Here’s a partial list of people who made great accomplishments on old age. Benjamin Franklin invented bifocal glasses at 78 to help correct his own poor vision. Giuseppe Verdi finished “Falstaf,” his final opera, just eight months shy of his 80^th birthday. Georgia O’Keefe continued painting well into her 90s, despite failing eyesight, and Martha Graham danced until she was 76, and then kept choreographing 20 years longer. I know the old saying that “aging is not for sissies,” but medical research also tells us that some parts of the brain will keep growing – if they get enough exercise. (Newsweek, 1/17/05) And I should think that what is true for the head should also be true for the heart.

Bethel doesn’t necessarily need you to become internet savy or to go out and buy an I-pod or some shares of Starbucks or even to buy something that proves you are now a bona fide devotee of digital, but we do need your creativity, a willingness to discover what the necessary revolution needs to look like here so those who ain’t here can be here, and perhaps most of all, a commitment to change to face the new reality of being church and practicing faith in this digital age. I can’t tell you what that is or what exactly it ought to look like, but chances are, you’ve got a son or daughter or a grandson or a granddaughter who can provide some pretty good clues. We need to reclaim our spiritual heritage. Abraham and Sarah launched out into the unknown at a rather ripe old age. They learned how to live by faith, not by sight. And so can we.

I have no idea what age the Psalmist might have been, but I do know that Psalm 121 tends mostly to get read at funerals. But that’s not really right. It’s really a Psalm about trusting God throughout life – at whatever age, in whatever age – we happen to find ourselves.

I close with a new rendering of this old Psalm.

I lift my eyes unto the hills,
From where shall come my help at last?
Whate’er the need, God will provide,
The Lord, by whom the world was cast.

Each day God is a strength and shield
Against the onslaught of my foes;
And to the dangers of the night,
The eyes of God are never closed.

The promise of the Lord is sure;
To hold me in unyielding care;
Throughout my life, may faith confirm
That where I am, the Lord is there.