Being Refined (Jan 14 Sermon)

BEING REFINED BY GOD
1/14/24 ~ St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, Encinitas, CA
By: The Rev. Brenda Sol
Epiphany 2 (B): 1 Samuel 3:1-10; Psalm 139:1-5, 12-17; 1 Corinthians 6:12-20; John 1:43-51

Have you ever gone through a period of time when life was just really hard? Maybe you knew it would eventually end, but you were also aware that it was going to be a long slog—maybe six months, maybe a year…or more—and you’d really prefer not to go through it. You know, one of those times when you seriously wondered, “Can I survive this?”.

Many of you’ve heard me talk about my time in Honduras when I volunteered at Our Little Roses, which is a home for girls, who are abandoned, neglected, or abused. I spent an entire school year as a volunteer teacher in a school connected to the home. It was the hardest year of my life for a number of reasons. 

First off, I was completely naïve about how challenging living in another culture would be. It took me months of struggle to realize I was fighting against Honduran cultural norms that valued relationship and aesthetics over efficiency and productivity. In order to keep people from hating me—and I’m not exaggerating—I eventually adopted the mantra, “I only do what I’m asked.”

Furthermore, being in a poverty-stricken country is something hardly anyone can come to terms with. Children wearing torn clothing, begging in the street; men carrying machetes looking for work as gardeners; armed guards outside every grocery store and bank; people—including teachers I worked with—being held up by gunpoint for a backpack or cellphone. The weight of it all was overwhelming. 

 Suffice it to say, there were many times when I screamed out at God, “Why? Why is this happening to these people? And why do I have to be here?” It's no secret to me or the people who supported me during this time, the only thing that kept me from high tailing it back to the states, was the fact that this volunteer role was part of my ordination process. If I didn't stay, I wouldn’t be ordained to the priesthood. And I knew I was called to be a priest. 

I thought about all of this when I read one of the chapters of the book our Deep Dive group read during Advent. In her book, Silence and Other Surprising Invitations, Enuma Okoro writes about how these challenging periods of our lives are times when God’s refining process can be at work in us. 

She describes how refining metal is a way to burn off all the excess properties, unveiling a purified product. The author insists that refining process has to do with God's vision for us as individuals, which is always connected to God's love for creation. 

I see that same insistence—that “God's vision for us as individuals is always connected to God's love for creation”—reflected in our scripture readings this morning. For instance, in Psalm 139, the beautiful poetry reminds us that we are known by God because God created us, “knitting us together in our mother’s womb”. Additionally, the Psalmist points out that as we move through the highs and lows of life, no matter what we do, we cannot escape God or God’s love.

The problem is that everything we experience in our lives—from our familial influences, to our societal narratives, to the media we are immersed in—all of it works really hard to tell us we’re not okay, that we’re not enough, that we’re not doing it right. And all of this forms layer upon layer of untruths, or half-truths, on our mind, body and spirit. All of that takes us away from the real truth that we’re created in God’s image and are, therefore, God’s beloved. So, as the author of the Advent book mentioned—if we’re willing—God uses those tough times to strip away some of the layers that aren’t true.

Let me clarify that I am absolutely not saying God creates challenging situations for us, so that we can be refined. I am not saying “God doesn't give you anything you can’t handle.” I’m not even saying, “Everything happens for a reason.” What I am saying is that bad things happen, and in the midst of them, if we allow it, God can use those times to purify us. If you want to read more about that, I commend to you the book we’re currently reading, called God Can’t.

Our passage from First Corinthians this morning points out that this refining process is not limited to our minds and spirits, but also happens in our bodies. The Apostle Paul is counteracting the Greco-Roman beliefs, of that time, that the mind or spirit is separate from the body. And, because the body was seen as divorced from the spirit, they believed one’s spiritual path had nothing to do with what went on in the body.

But Paul, understanding we are created in the image of God in mind, body and spirit, reminds the people of Corinth that what they do with their bodies should also be available for God’s refinement and purification. He’s basically saying, your body—as well as your mind and spirit—are dwelling places for God. Treat your mind-body-spirit as a temple.

Here’s another point of clarification. It’s important to remember that the Apostle Paul is addressing specific issues in a particular community. In this case, the Christian community of Corinth—and let’s be honest, he’s addressing the men of this community, because women didn’t have the kind of agency in that time and place to make the kind of choices Paul is talking about. It’s also important to know that when Paul refers to “fornication”, as translated from Greek, he’s talking about immoral acts. He’s not referring to two people expressing their love in intimate ways, but rather commenting on illicit activities like adultery, incest, and rape. 

As I mentioned, we have to say “yes” to God’s ability to refine us. And, there is evidence of invitation in our Gospel reading this morning. So, that's what Jesus is up to in his interaction with Philip and Nathaniel. He motions to them, “Come and see.” And, once again, in that exchange, we’re reminded that we’re part of God's creation, as Jesus demonstrates he knows Nathaniel, even though they’ve just met.

Similarly, in First Samuel the interchange between God, Samuel and Eli is an example of how God never forces the transformational process. In fact, in this passage, we find a cultural practice of refusing the gift, or, in this case, the opportunity, twice before accepting it on the third offer. 

Samuel hears the voice of God and thinks it’s Eli. Essentially Eli is the one, who in his response, refuses the opportunity for Samuel, the first two times. And, then, finally, the third time, they both realize Samuel is hearing the voice of God. Samuel’s story is a condensed version of our lives. 

In the midst of difficult times, we might think we’re ready to be transformed, but we aren’t quite all the way there. Believe me, I resisted—or at least was unaware of the ways I was resisting—the refining process during my time in Honduras. As much as I prayed that God would bring about good through my experience, I was still just trying to survive. 

So, about two-thirds of the way into my time there, my bishop flew me back to the states to visit a couple of seminaries, and a close friend met me on one of my stops. After a few meals together, he looked into my eyes and said, “You know, you're really angry.” Of course, I had plenty to be angry about, but that emotion wasn’t going to help me shine God’s light into this broken world, so I continued praying for transformation. 

Luckily, something inside me understood the truth of what Okoro states in her book. She says, the refinement process is seldom—if ever—a one-stop-shopping experience. Even when we say, “yes” to God’s purifying processes, transformation takes time. Not only that, but refinement can be painful and frustrating. But purification can also be life-giving.

Though I wasn’t at first, I will be forever grateful that my bishop sent me to Honduras. I would absolutely not be the priest I am today had I not had that experience. Through that painful process of refinement, I learned a greater capacity for complexity. The more I understood the nuances of the political and economic factors of the country, the more I realized how complicated fixing the problems would be. 

And, the expanded capacity for complexity also gave me more compassion for everyone involved. As well as more compassion for myself that sometimes it’s not that I’m doing things wrong, I’m just doing them in a way that’s counter-cultural for the people I’m with.

Through the “refining process”, if we don’t resist, we let go of beliefs no longer serving us. We step into new ways of being as we learn more about our own resiliency and the complexity of the world around us. Ultimately, we have more compassion, remembering we are all part of God’s beloved creation. 

So, my prayer for all of you, today, is that when you find yourself in such times, and when you’re ready, that you’re willing to say yes to the possibility of purification. Because in the midst of challenging times, God is right there, ready to provide the power of refinement.

-AMEN