The Latin poet Virgil, in his epic poem, The Aeneid, has one of the Trojan warriors murmur, when a giant wooden horse was offered as a gift by the Greek armies outside the city walls, “I fear the Greeks even when bearing gifts.” “I fear the Greeks even when bearing gifts.” That is a statement of fear and of suspicion. That is a culturally prejudiced statement. If it comes from somebody different from me, I don’t want it. I am afraid of it. Gift or not, I don’t like it. There is something of us in that: “I fear the Greeks even when bearing gifts.” I fear .. whoever .. even when bearing gifts.
Several weeks ago one of our church families, a family that does lots of gardening, gave Margaret and me a mess of collard greens. Another member found out about that and said, with a twinkle in his eye and his tongue firmly in his cheek, “I didn’t know you all ate collard greens.” I decided to play it straight. “You-all”? Who is “you-all”? Preachers? Kentuckians? People named Smith? Who doesn’t eat collard greens? Well, you know what he meant, and so did I. He was singling out collard greens as one of the favorite tastes of African-American people, and was suggesting that maybe Margaret and I wouldn’t like collard greens because we were melanin-deficient.
Of course I set him straight on that, and assured him that, yes, indeed, there was nothing in the Caucasian palate that would choke on collard greens. They tasted good to us too. They garnished our meals, just as they did his. But he was closer to correct than I let on; because, the truth is, I didn’t grow up eating collard greens. Margaret hadn’t gone to the grocery looking for collard greens. And it wasn’t until we got hooked up with Takoma that, indeed, I tried collard greens. Kale I knew and spinach I relished, but collard was new. It was an acquired taste. It was something I tried because it was a gift; but once given those greens, I found I liked them very much.
Don’t be afraid of new tastes. Don’t fear new experiences. And when they come to you as gifts from someone different, don’t fear new possibilities. To fear gifts is to deny yourself some of the finest things that God has for us. To fear gifts and to reject them is to make our great God too small, assuming that God is not honored by the unusual gifts that others have for us. Fear no one bringing gifts. In the house of God, for the worship of God, fear no one bringing gifts.
When Solomon ascended to the throne of Israel, he knew that he must complete the work so vigorously begun by his father David. David had conquered Jerusalem and had made it the royal capital, and then had set out to furnish the city with monuments and buildings worthy of a great nation. David built for himself a palace; a beautiful house it was, of cedar and gold, of silver and fine linens, of the best craftsmanship the king could assemble. David built a palace; and David wanted also to build a Temple, a center of worship to which the people could come and offer sacrifices and praise. David’s heart was set on constructing a magnificent worship center; but God told David that he would not build the Temple, but that this work would be left for David’s son. And so Solomon set his heart and his mind to this task: a Temple for the living God, a center of worship worthy of the God of their fathers and the Lord of their victories. It would have to be a great house indeed. Nothing small, nothing cheap, nothing halfway. A great house it must be.
So the Bible tells us that when Solomon set out to build this Temple, he turned to a foreign king for help. He did not assume that in his own kingdom he would be able to find all the materials and the craftsman he would need. Rather he turned northward to Tyre and to King Hiram and asked for help. And help came in abundance: the finest of timber and the best of his skilled workers. The Temple was built for the God of Israel, using foreign materials and a foreign artist. The place of worship was endowed and shaped with materials and people, tastes and sights, that were new to Israel. Gifts from a different people.
In that fact there are some key insights for us as we begin a year of focus on worship. Let’s look at King Solomon in his wisdom and discern what we need to do as we too build a house great and wonderful for our God.
I
Notice, first, that Solomon began with modesty. Solomon began with understanding that what he himself had or what he himself knew was limited. They say that Solomon was the wisest of men; maybe this is the best evidence of Solomon’s great wisdom: that he knew his own limitations.
The house that I am about to build will be great, for our God is greater than other gods. But who is able to build him a house, since heaven, even highest heaven, cannot contain him? Who am I to build a house for him, except as a place to make offerings before him?
“Who am I to build a house for God?” Solomon sensed his own limitations. Solomon was wise enough to ask for help from an unlikely source, the pagan king Hiram. Unafraid, not for a moment believing that he would be tainted, the King of Israel encouraged the King of Tyre to contribute to the worship of Israel’s God.
When I think about worship into the next millennium, I think about the generation out there that is not yet worshipping. The baby boomers are aging now, and the baby busters are here. And then there are the ones they call GenX or the Millennium babies. When I think of them and of calling them to worship, I know that we have to invite them to contribute their gifts, even though those gifts might not accord with our tastes. I know that if we are wise, and do not want to end up with nothing but a mausoleum, beautiful but lifeless, then we will need to invite the gifts of this generation. And we will need to be faithful enough not to fear their gifts, simply because they are different. We will need to recognize our own limitations, that we don’t know everything there is to know about worship.
I am one of those who grew up on classical church music. I learned to play Bach on the organ when I was still in high school. I learned that from a Lutheran organist, and I reveled in it. When George Winfield first came here and began playing Bach chorales, I was delighted, and could even quote some of the German chorale texts. He said he was playing, “From heaven above to earth I come.” But I knew he was playing, “Von Himmel hoch ich fahr dahin.” I had been gifted, from another culture and another set of tastes.
But guess what?! Bach was not the favored music in my Baptist church back home. They didn’t know Bach from a bookend. They didn’t really like my Bach when I played there. They said that was foreign, Lutheran, German, too much like the Catholics. My Baptist brothers and sisters didn’t want Bach. They wanted, “Down at the Cross where my Savior died.” They preferred to sing, “What a fellowship, what a joy divine, leaning on the everlasting arms.” It was different from that liturgical tradition I had learned. It was bouncy and rhythmic, it had simple harmonies and even simpler words. I didn’t like it very much. Just as they didn’t like my Bach, I didn’t care for their southern Gospel. I didn’t think it honored God very much. I didn’t think it had the dignity it ought to have. I wanted to reject that gift, as they wanted to reject the one I brought. We were afraid of each other even when bringing gifts.
But over the years, what has happened? Over the years, traditions once separate have been finding one another. Over the years, people who, like Solomon, didn’t think they had all the answers found rich gifts in other traditions, other cultures. Over the years, Christians who, like Solomon, were willing to say, “Who am I to build a house for God?”, reached out and accepted, without fear, the gifts of others. And today, if I were to pick up a newer Lutheran hymnal, in it I would find some of those old Baptist camp meeting Gospel songs. And if I page through our hymnal, I find some of those study old German chorales. We have enriched each other. And we can, if we are not afraid. We can, if we do not assume that we have it right and they have it wrong.
We are going to ask for the cultural gifts of baby busters and GenXers and Millennials and who-knows-who. We can either be afraid and reject it all as unworthy of the Gospel; or we can be like Solomon and begin with modesty, “Who am I to build a house for God?” I hope that we will fear no one bringing gifts for the worship of our God.
II
Notice, next, that if we are not afraid to ask for the gifts of others, we are likely to get them, and to get their best. If we are not afraid of what those who are different may bring, even though it may not fully conform to our tastes, we will receive something wonderful, something worthy of the worship of God.
When Solomon asked Hiram, king of Tyre, for a worker skilled in various crafts, and asked also for fine timbers, here is the response he received:
Hiram also said, "Blessed be the LORD God of Israel, who made heaven and earth, who has given King David a wise son, endowed with discretion and understanding, who will build a temple for the LORD, and a royal palace for himself. I have dispatched Hiram-abi, a skilled artisan, endowed with understanding ... He is trained to work in gold, silver, bronze, iron, stone, and wood, and in purple, blue, and crimson fabrics and fine linen, and to do all sorts of engraving and execute any design that may be assigned him ...[and] We will cut whatever timber you need from Lebanon, and bring it to you as rafts by sea to Joppa; you will take it up to Jerusalem."
What a wealth of skill and material Solomon received, just by asking for it! What a wonderful place the Temple became, just because the King of Israel asked for the gifts of someone else. Israel was enriched and her worship was enhanced, all because she had a king who was wise enough to use the help of others.
Brothers and sisters, our church needs the help of others who are not like us. Others who are younger, others who are of different racial backgrounds or cultural tastes. Others who have skills we do not have. We need to learn how to ask our youth and our young adults to use their music and their poetry in worship; we might find it not to our tastes at first, but we would be enriched. We need to learn how to ask people who know the fine arts to bring their skills here, so that we may worship. We Baptists have long lagged behind in this; we were so sure we were not going to look like the Catholics that we banned every painting, threw out every sculpture, and made sure that when we came to church there was almost nothing worth looking at. And our fears impoverished us. We need to ask for the gifts of others.
I am so pleased that we have an emerging Drama Guild. The churches have always used drama, not only to teach, but also to worship. Someone said to me a few months ago that she didn’t think drama had any business being used in worship; I had to ask her what she thought baptism and the Lord’s Supper were, if not drama. We need the gifts of those who can develop characters and present timeless truths in dramatic fashion.
We need, like Solomon, to ask for the gifts of many others to bring our worship alive. Filmmakers, computer artists, poets, storytellers, dancers, all of them and more. Let’s not be afraid of them. Let’s fear no one bringing gifts to make this house of worship great and wonderful.
III
For, you see, it isn’t about my taste or your taste. It’s about joining together to reflect the greatness of our God. It isn’t about what I like versus what you like, or what older people are happy with versus what attracts young people. It’s about what is authentic and real, it’s about what is offered to God and to God’s people in honesty and in truth. It’s about working together and learning to savor the gifts of God for the people of God.
Solomon gave voice to our hope when he said to Hiram,
My servants will work with your servants to prepare timber for me in abundance, for the house I am about to build will be great and wonderful.
My servants and your servants will work together to build this house. People of all persuasions and temperaments will work together to build the house of God. Men and women with differing gifts will bring them and share them, and together we will create something great and wonderful here for our God.
I have been troubled lately. I have been troubled by reports of caustic comments and mean-spirited put-downs among us. I am bothered by our lack of care for one another. It’s strange, coming at the end of one of our finest years, a year when more people have responded to the Gospel than in any other year since 1988, a year when the generosity of God’s people poured out in a half dozen different ways .. how can it be that at the end of such a year there would be some of us who would choose to criticize, complain, and cut down other church members? I can only think that it means that we are still afraid to work together, we have not caught the vision of sharing our gifts. We let our fear of something different get hold of us, and it makes us take pot shots at one another, even when some are bringing their gifts. We must learn to work together for one common cause, the cause of Christ as expressed in this church. This church is not about my taste or your taste, not about my wishes or your desires; it is about what we can give each other, and how we can work together so that this house of God might be great and wonderful. Let us fear no one bringing gifts.
This is Epiphany Sunday. Epiphany commemorates the gifts of the wise men. These travelers from the East came from other lands, other cultures, and other perspectives. They had rich gifts to give to the Christ child. Mary and Joseph respected and received these gifts. The wise men came to worship Him. They were respected when they worshipped and brought their gifts. Let us fear no one bringing gifts.
My wife’s parents, English to the core, came to this country in 1952 and brought all their English customs, habits, food, music, everything with them. People enjoyed going to their home for roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, with a dish of English trifle for dessert. They brought their gifts to this nation. But we found out, to our amusement, that even after forty years in America, they wouldn’t go to a Chinese restaurant; they wouldn’t eat Italian pizza; they turned up their noses at Greek cantinas; and soul food would have been way off the charts. Why? Why did they keep away from all these culinary riches? They had an answer for it: “we don’t eat foreign food.” Never mind that they were foreigners themselves; never mind that they still had the accents, manners, and vocabulary of foreigners. No, “we don’t eat foreign food.” They missed a lot. You always do when you let your own tastes dominate and make you fear others, even when bringing gifts.
For I know that one day we will all gather at the one banquet table of the Lord, and there spread before us will be a feast of a thousand delights. At the banquet table of the Lord, collard greens and Yorkshire pudding. Ribs and moussaka. Pizza and black-eyed peas. A feast for all nations, for all who have worked together for the Kingdom, great and wonderful.
And at that feast, when we sing “Alleluia”, there will be music of all sorts, Bach and bebop, Gospel and grand opera, Gregorian chant and jazz. And there will be art and drama, dancing and poetry, maybe, God help us, there will even be the art of preaching in heaven!
It will all be there, at that great banquet table in the Temple of the Lord of all things. But there will be one universal taste, one universal hunger, one universal thirst: for the presence of Christ. I think we had better learn very, very soon to fear no one bringing gifts. I think we had better learn right now to taste and see that the Lord is good.
