One of the ongoing tensions inherent to the church from the first century to today is the relationship between culture and faith.  How do we as Christians live in the midst of a pluralistic society?  To what extent should we try to influence culture versus to what extent should we let the culture influence us?  The answers are far from obvious—the church, for its part has at various times supported total withdrawal from society, as the ancient desert fathers did, and at the other extreme, we have in certain times and places been a state-sponsored church.  The culture has at times rejected and persecuted religious faith.  At other times it has offered valuable resources from which the church has learned to more effectively communicate its message, to target and reach our audience, and to grow a program or our membership.

            The uneasy relationship between culture and church is present with us throughout the year, but at no time is the contrast more noticeable than during the Advent and Christmas seasons.  When we see adults taking off work for 4 or 5 days to line up outside electronics stores, camping outside in freezing temperatures and rain or snow storms just to be one of a handful of people to spend hundreds of dollars purchasing a coveted new gaming system, we know, without doubt, that the church has lost the cultural battle for defining the meaning of Christmas. 

           One of the great tragedies of losing the sacredness and serenity of Advent is the resulting “dark side” of the holidays.  Suicides increase, depression often deepens, grief is more acute for those who feel the absence of loved ones.  For others, it is not the absence, but the presence of certain family members that renews hurt feelings, painful memories or toxic relationships.  In the midst of a culture which promotes shopping, eating, crowds, noise, and frenetic activity, the sense of loneliness, isolation, and separation from the world is often more poignant and painful than at any other time of the year.

           We are not told in today’s Scripture text what difficulty the psalmist is facing, but we do know that the writer of the 25th Psalm is facing some sort of personal trouble.  I don’t think it’s an accident that he fails to tell us the particulars of his situation, because what is important for us to know is not what the trouble is, but what the psalmist does in seeking a solution.  He responds to this trouble by praying which in and of itself is instructive for us.  In particular, he prays for help, direction, and forgiveness.  Underlying his petition in these three areas is trust in God.  He prays for help because he trusts God to come to his aid in the midst of his crisis.  He prays for direction because he trusts God to guide him and lead him in what is right for him to do.  And, he prays for forgiveness because he trusts God to be merciful in the face of his shortcomings. 

           Trust is easy to talk about, easy to say the right words, easy to sound religious.  But, the psalmist is not interested in sounding religious; he is interested in real help in the midst of his personal crisis.  Consequently, he grounds his trust not in “pie in the sky” religiosity but in who God is, that is, the nature and character of God, and in what God has done.  The psalmist knows and relies on God’s character and nature as One who is merciful, whose love is steadfast, and who is good and upright.  God’s very nature means that the psalmist can rely on God to be on his side.  Because God is faithful, the psalmist can trust God to respond to his prayer for help.  Because God is merciful, he can trust God to forgive him.  Because God’s love never wavers, never diminishes, but is always steadfast, the psalmist can trust God to provide guidance and direction. 

           To talk about God as merciful, good, faithful, and loving would seem to indicate that trusting God is easy, but it is, in fact, some of the hardest work we do as Christians.  It is hard because to trust God means that I give up control.  I give up the right to my own agenda.  When the psalmist puts his trust in God, he gives up the right to follow his own path but chooses instead to seek God’s path.  He gives up the right to determine his own ways but chooses instead to allow God’s way to be determinative.  He acknowledges that his own truth is subservient to God’s truth.

           There is no hint of coercion, of guilt, of fear or hesitation in the psalmist’s willingness to seek God.  That is because the psalmist has already established why God is so trustworthy.  With a God who is good and steadfast in divine love, there is nothing to fear, nothing to dread.  The path, the way, the truth that is laid in front of the psalmist will be good, purposeful, and life-giving.  Based on who God is, the psalmist is confident that God will never lead him down a path that leads him to harm; God’s path is straight, not in the sense that we never encounter difficulties or danger by following God, but God’s path is straight in the sense that it gives life, that it leads us to wholeness and authenticity, and that we will know real joy by following God.  God’s ways are right, not just morally right, but right in faithfulness and love.  God’s ways are the ways of forgiveness and mercy which elicit from us lives of faithful and loving response.  Finally, God’s truth leads us to salvation, to living life in the light, to being in fellowship with God and with others. 

           This morning we are ordaining and installing our new church officers.  In the 11:15 service we will also celebrate the sacrament of baptism.  If you listen carefully, you will notice that the first questions we ask of parents and officers is one which asks them to affirm their trust in God’s mercy and in Jesus Christ.  That is a tangible way in which the church acknowledges the fundamental importance of trust in God in who we are and in everything we do.  It also serves a second purpose, in that it reminds us that when we make promises to raise a child in the faith or we make promises to serve this congregation in the capacity of elder or deacon, we are taking on responsibilities that are truly bigger than we are.  We are “biting off more than we can chew”, so to speak, and that’s ok because we trust in someone bigger than we are, too.  We do not merely rely on our own efforts but we trust that the same God who loves us and calls us is also the same God who will respond to us with help, direction, and mercy in order for us to follow faithfully. 

           The symbols we use this morning, the pouring of water and the laying on of hands, are symbols which both remind us and connect us to the past and which point us to the future.  Advent, too, is a time when we remember a past event and are connected to people in a faraway time and place but which also points us to a future.  Advent calls us to hope and belief in someone and something greater than we are.  Advent reminds us of God’s ultimate response to our need for help, direction, and forgiveness.  Advent reminds us that trusting God is the fundamental center of everything we believe and do as people of God.  Advent reminds us that God’s way was the way of a baby, not a king.  God’s path was the path of crucifixion, not coronation.  God’s truth defines the meaning of Christ’s birth as the truth of love, righteousness, and justice.  It refuses to accept the culture’s definition of the event marking God’s sacred entry into humanity as being about something that can be purchased at the mall. 

           As our Advent wreath reminds us, our hope, our joy, and our peace lie in trusting God and in embracing God’s divine love for us.  Let us join the psalmist in making faith the path, the way, and the truth we choose this season.  Amen.