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The New
Old Story: Noah - Send in the Clowns
A Sermon Preached by Dr. James Flamming
First Baptist Church, Richmond, Virginia
August 19, 2001
Text: Genesis 6-9
Many of us who can be characterized as enjoying some gray hair, white hair,
or no hair, remember Stephen Sondheim teaming up with Judy Collins as she embraced
the lyrics of Send in the Clowns:
Isn't it rich, are we a pair
Me here at last on the ground
You in mid-air
Where are the clowns
. . . Send in the clowns
. . . There ought to be clowns
Well, maybe next year.
Do you know the book, Clowning in Rome? Neither did I until a couple of months
ago. On that Sunday Sarah Smith preached during the Praise Service. She did
a wonderful job. Sarah was raised in our church and spent two years in missionary
service as a journeyman in Africa. She is now enrolled in BTSR and helps us
in our College and Career class. During her message she used a quote from Henri
Nouwen. After it was over I asked about the book from which she got it. She
said, Clowning in Rome. I thought I knew all of Nouwen's books but I had not
heard about this one. The next day Sarah graciously put the book on my desk.
Henri Nouwen was one of the great spiritual-life writers of the last fifty
years. Teacher at Harvard, at Yale, and at Notre Dame, his writings helped many
people to a vital relationship with God, to new spiritual awareness and depth.
I remember when he passed away in the nineties I felt a personal loss. To my
surprise, a columnist for the Times Dispatch who did not cover religious news,
took an entire column paying tribute to the influence Nouwen had upon his life.
Nouwen was that kind of a person.
But Nouwen had another wonderful side to him. As a child Henri was fascinated
by the circus. He never grew out of it. Before his untimely death he intended
to write a novel on the circus relating it to the spiritual life. Nouwen was
a Roman Catholic priest and his book, Clowning in Rome, was delivered to the
religious community of which he was a part.
In likening followers of Christ to clowns he doesn't mean we are funny all
of the time, or that we always make people smile. He means that in the eyes
of the secular, often materialistic world, a world that organizes itself completely
without God, we are never the main attraction.
One of ours who helps people put together weddings told me recently of a family
that was arranging a wedding that was going to cost $60,000. $60,000? The day
will come when they won't pay $500.00 for marriage counseling! They wanted a
Justice of the Peace to do the ceremony. So she gave them a name. They came
back for another name. This man wanted to use the Bible and mention God. They
wanted neither. All they wanted was someone to make it legal. Friends, a large
percentage of Americans, rich and not-so-rich, are like that. To them we are
like clowns: irrelevant, inconsequential, ridiculous.
I. We are clowns
for God when we can accept the fact we are different.
People of faith, in a non-faith world are different. People who let God possess
them, instead of measuring everything by how much we possess, are going to seem
irrelevant and ridiculous to the world around us.
Don't you know that is the way they looked at Noah: irrelevant, inconsequential,
ridiculous. For them, Noah had all the impact and relevance of a clown. But
it turned out that this spiritual clown was right.
God needs a few spiritual clowns, out of rhythm with the world, who say, "Hey,
early retirement is not the issue - a life of significance is." As Jesus
said, "Seek first the Kingdom of God and all else will fall into place."
The world sees spiritual people as irrelevant, inconsequential, as ridiculous.
They see us as clowns. Just like they saw Noah as a clown.
You remember the story. God told Noah to build a big - well - ark. But it looked
more like a floating apartment building than a great ship. It did accomplish
what it was intended to do. Noah was to build it, not on the water's edge, but
on dry land. Water was far away.
"What are you doing Noah?"
"Building an ark."
"Expect an ocean to develop in this desert, Noah. Snicker, snicker, ha,
ha. Noah. Have you noticed we have average rainfall of 20 inches a year. What
in the world are you doing building a boat in this pasture, in this flatland,
Noah? Do you really think the rains are coming?"
"Yes, the rains are coming."
"Sure, the rains are coming. They always do during the rainy season. But
that barely is enough to water the crops. Do you have any idea how much water
it would take to float your boat?"
"No. No I don't," answered Noah. "Frankly, none of that is any
of my business. That is God's business. I'm supposed to build the boat. That
is what I am about. Thanks for coming by. Hey, before you go, how about holding
this piece of wood for me?"
A clown in the spiritual sense, is always out of rhythm with the world in which
he or she lives. But it is a world when what is taken seriously is seriously
flawed, and what matters to people, is purely temporary.
Spiritual clowns keep there eye on the eternal. They are different. Send in
the clowns.
II. We are clowns
for God when we are able to laugh at ourselves and bring joy to others. In this
world, there ought to be clowns.
Can you picture Noah as a great theologian, teaching in a theological seminary?
I can't. Can you picture him as a great evangelist, like Billy Graham? No. Can
you picture him as one who could see the humor in almost anything? Yes. I think
Noah was the kind of person who could smile at himself and situations and was
capable of huge laughter. It is no accident that one of Bill Cosby's funniest
sketches is about Noah.
Laughing at ourselves and even our inconsistencies is made more tolerable if
we can see ourselves as God's clowns rather than God's trapeze performers. It
lifts the load of feeling that you have to be perfect all of the time and doing
what we really can't do. Besides, all of us have our inconsistencies that is,
well, laughable. Faith isn't funny, but we who are the faithful are.
One of my Episcopalian neighbors told me a joke her minister told. She was
still giggling about it. It is about a convent where the Mother Superior was
very ill and seemed to be breathing her last. The Sisters of the religious order
had gathered around the bed. An older Nun asked the youngest to go warm some
milk. She did, but when they put the spoon to her mouth she shook her head.
"See if you can find something that might help," said the older to
the younger. So Sister Elsie went back into the kitchen but all she could find
was some brandy. So she mixed it in the milk and brought it in to the bedroom.
The spoon of milk was offered and the Mother Superior took it. Then another
and then another until it was all gone. Feeling their leader had some new life
one of them felt bold enough to ask, "Mother, what are we to do when you
leave us. You have left us no instructions." The Mother Superior thought
for a minute and then lifted up her head and said, "Don't sell that cow!"
Noah didn't fit - until it mattered. When it started raining, when the end
came, what they thought mattered, didn't matter at all.
III. We are God's
clowns when we receive great joy in our togetherness.
The Ark was a togetherness operation. Two by two. Noah's family. Two giraffe,
two zebras, two spiders.
People who don't know better, think that those of us who meet to worship God
on Sunday, get together to parade our goodness. I guess their image of church-going
folks is to liken us to spiritual trapeze artists who do think they go higher
and do everything better than everyone else.
You and I know this is a ridiculous image. We aren't here because we are experts
at being good. We're here because we have a hunger for God and life and learning
and love. In life, we are often like the clowns. We fumble and fall. We are
often awkward and frequently out of balance. We don't always have it all together
but we know God does, and that gives us strength to carry on.
Jesus used different metaphors. I'm not sure they had circuses in Jerusalem
or Galilee. Jesus said we are to be like the yeast that leavens the loaf. We
are to be like salt, he said, never the main dish as the world sees things,
but making the difference God wants made. We are like a lit candle in a dark
room, Jesus said. Not a search-light, a candle.
But in addition to connecting with God we are here because we just enjoy being
together. God's people enjoy being with God's people. Christ's followers thrive
on fellowship.
I cannot remember watching a circus when there was only one clown. Clowns seem
to group together. It is a symbol of what the New Testament calls, koinonia
- the opportunity to share common experiences of faith.
Send in the clowns.
IV. We become God's
clowns when for Christ's sake we do the unexpected.
Nouwen spent five months in Rome and in the end it wasn't the Vatican, not
the Cardinals, not the Red Brigade, that made an impact on his life. It was
the little people who were making things happen between the scenes. Like the
students who were "wasting" their time on high school dropouts. Like
the Medical mission sister dedicating her time to two old women who had been
forgotten and isolated from health care, food, and love. He met a woman who
was so immersed in God's love that it literally shown from her face.
How many times have you watched a circus. A big event has been completed. The
band has played the ta-duh. Out come the clowns. You smile and wonder what they
will do next. They may stumble and fall all over each other, but they do have
your attention.
Noah was misunderstood by his contemporaries, but he got their attention. Faith
may not be a laughing matter, but getting folks attention may involve some spiritual
clowning. Humor is often a great teaching mechanism.
Most of us know Francis of Asissi by his great prayer: "Make me an instrument
of thy peace." Or we know him for his great surrender to God when he left
a home of great privilege and wealth, to serve the poor and follow Christ. But
you know what his friends called him? They called him the Clown of God. He did
almost nothing in appropriate and expected ways. But he got the attention of
his age.
In an age of great violence and cruelty, he would pick up two pieces of wood,
pretending one was a violin and the other a bow, and then he would compose love
songs to God on the street corner. He often stood on his head to see the world
upside down, reminding his neighbors that the way God sees things and the way
we see things are completely different.
His way with nature and with animals and birds became legendary. At the first
mass meeting of Franciscans, with three thousand brothers in attendance, it
was difficult to hear. There was no public address system in those days. So
Francis gently instructed the birds to stop chirping so the brothers could hear
his sermon. They did.
Noah did the unexpected. St. Francis was another one. People who follow Jesus
continually do the unexpected, getting the attention of those who need to know
our faith is real, very real indeed.
Maybe God wants you to do the unexpected this very morning:
To take a step of faith you have put off.
To make a decision to follow Christ.
To resolve to make right something that is wrong.
To be willing to become a clown for Christ's Sake.
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