S.P.S. (Spiritual Positioning System) -- Feb. 21, 2010

S.P.S. (Spiritual Positioning System)
Luke 4:1-13
 
They were rumbling over dusty roads in southern Zimbabwe, half listening to their colleague’s treatise on land management, when a phrase caught their attention: “The people lost their reference points.” The people were natives who originally farmed that part of the world in the late 19th century. They brought to the land a kind of tribal holism of culture, land, spirituality, work, and faith, all of which were inseparable.
 
For the native farmers, land holdings were a function of the number of cattle one had and where one wanted those cattle to graze, to browse, to water. Each farmer had a number of “pockets” of land that they would move to as needed. When the settlers arrived in the early 20th century, land was divided into large contiguous blocks and boundaries were mandated, chopping up traditional native farming methods. These farms were reduced to small plots, regardless of the number of cattle a farmer had to sustain. In essence, native farming as it was once practiced was virtually destroyed.
 
The ethnic conflicts that followed have given anthropologists and sociologists plenty to write about. But there is a need for theological reflection. Because of their holistic understanding, when the children saw their parents’ farming methods discredited, they also began challenging their parents’ faith. Faith no longer “worked” and as faith eroded, the people lost their reference points. The age-old truths had given them direction, and when these ancient guideposts were lost, so were the people.
 
Human beings have always had to work consciously at developing the requisite skills and senses to find their way in the world. To guide us about the physical terrain, people have invented a series of ever more sophisticated navigational tools. Sonar readouts have replaced sextants among sailors. Precise computer imaging has made compasses obsolete in a pilot’s cockpit. Instead of navigating by the stars, soldiers now use infrared night goggles to find their way. Many of us now own a G.P.S. device for our cars – a Global Positioning Satellite System that ensures that we get to our destination. All of these advancements are giving us more detailed pictures of our world and where we stand in it. They let us know, with great accuracy, which way we should go.
 
When it comes to determining how to direct our social, moral, and ethical behavior on our life journey, there is an unerring method. Divine guidance is given to us in the words of the scriptures. These “ancient guideposts” that enabled generations of our ancestors to make their way in life are still there to help us find our bearings and to give us direction.
 
Jesus’ life was steeped in the holistic culture, spirituality and faith of his people. Luke tells us that “it was his custom” to go to the synagogue. He did not go only to preach, to stir up the people, or to make a cameo appearance that could be reported in the New Testament. Jesus went to synagogue Sabbath after Sabbath. He heard the lessons, he learned the Torah, he prayed the prayers. Somehow we have forgotten that even Jesus had to learn about his faith; even Jesus was a student. Luke tells us that Jesus grew in wisdom.
So it shouldn’t be a surprise to learn that when Jesus’ calling and loyalty to God were tested by the devil, he used scripture to defend himself against the wilderness assaults. He quoted Deuteronomy. He quoted truths he had learned as a child, recited in Sabbath school, heard time and again in the synagogue. Tempted to turn stone into bread, Jesus answered, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’” Tempted to worship and serve a power other than God, Jesus answered, “It is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’” Tempted to seek proof of God’s saving power, Jesus answered, “It is written. Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
 
The words that served him well in the wilderness were engraved on his heart in worship. “It is written . . . It is written . . . It is written . . .” So it is with us. When we are tested and tempted, the words of scripture heard in home and church, the patterns of faithfulness learned in worship, the habits of our hearts, will be there as a resource.
 
In Judith Guest’s novel Ordinary People, a middle-aged man is going through a classic mid-life crisis. Confused and adrift, every time he hears a conversation in an elevator or a restaurant that begins “Now I’m the kind of man who . . .” he tunes in, hoping to learn some wisdom. But he never does, and he finally admits, “I’m the kind of man who hasn’t got the foggiest idea what kind of man I am.”
 
But Jesus knew who he was, knew what kind of person he was. He was one who knew life was more than bread alone, one who worshiped and served only God, one who did not put the Lord to the test. How did he find his reference points and orient his soul so surely in the midst of a wilderness? Where did he get this moral courage? Where did he get what it took to withstand the tests of the devil? He got it week after week in the synagogue, month after month with the Torah, year after year with prayers.
 
A few years ago a university gave an honorary degree to a man named High Thompson. On March 16, 1968 Thompson was a young helicopter pilot flying on patrol over the countryside of Vietnam. When he and his crew flew over the village of My Lai, they saw a nightmare enacted below them. United States Army troops had lost control of their discipline, reason, and humanity, and had begun slaughtering unarmed civilians in the village, most of them women, children, and elderly men. 504 people had already been killed. Thompson set his helicopter down between the troops and the remaining villagers. At great risk to himself, he got out of the helicopter and confronted the officer in charge. He then airlifted the few villagers still alive out of My Lai, and also radioed a report of the scene that resulted in a halt of the action, thus saving thousands of civilian lives.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Standing on the platform at the university commencement, Thompson spoke to the question on everyone’s minds. How could he have found the moral courage and strength to do what he did that day? His answer surprised the audience of graduates, brought them to a thoughtful silence. “I’d like to thank my mother and father for trying to instill in me the difference between right and wrong,” he began. “We were country people. I was born in Stone Mountain, Georgia, and we had very little. But one thing we did have was the Golden Rule. My parents taught me early, ‘Do unto others what you would have them do unto you.’ That’s why I did what I did that day. It’s hard to put certain things into words. You’re going to have to make many decisions in your life. Please make the right decisions because we’re depending on you. God bless you all.”
 
Why did he do what he did? Where did he find the moral courage? Words taught to him in childhood, repeated over and over, “Do unto others . . . do unto others . . . do unto others.” “It is written . . . it is written . . . it is written . . .” Jesus clearly was comfortable with the unerring sense of direction which scripture provides. High Thompson was, too.
 
There will be times when you find yourself in a wilderness of the soul, alone and vulnerable to moral and ethical challenges and temptations. How will you find your way? Will you – and your children, and your children’s children – be able to call on the power of scripture as Jesus did? Will you have those ancient guideposts of faith there to help you not get lost? You will, if the words are inside you, are an integral part of you, your very own interior S.P.S. – Spiritual Positioning System. Then and only then, with God’s word embedded in your heart, mind, soul – though you find yourself in a hostile and unfamiliar wilderness –- will you know which way you should go.