Doing the Right Thing Grows out of a Habit of Being
Our friend and the 20th Dean of Nashotah House, Fr. Steven Peay, passed away yesterday, August 31, 2020.
All who worked with Fr. Peay will have fond memories of him as an ebullient colleague who loved students, a man with an encyclopedic mind who loved telling stories, and as a dedicated servant of our Lord who served this institution with tremendous passion and vigor. He leaves a lasting legacy. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace.
Below is a sermon that Fr. Peay delivered on July 3, 2016. The sermon holds many themes familiar to his family, friends, and to his students, including the focus on ‘doing the right thing’ as each of us continues the work of Jesus to make him present to the world.
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Heading down to St. Thomas of Canterbury to fill in this morning. Here is the text of my sermon (including my directions to myself!):
Doing the Right Thing . . . Even When Doing the Wrong Thing is Easier
7th Sunday after Pentecost – July 3, 2016
The V. Rev. Steven A. Peay, Ph.D.
Texts: Galatians 6:1-16/Luke 10: 1-11; 16-20
“So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up. So then, whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for all, and especially for those of the family of faith” (Galatians 6: 9 -10).
Paul’s words to the Churches in Galatia drew me as I read over the lessons for today. As I began to prepare I did an online search for “doing the right thing” and got 118,000,000 “hits” – I didn’t go through them all, of course. However, even looking through a few of the top hits told me that as a nation we are concerned with doing the right thing, with becoming and acting as people of integrity. I even encountered a book review for atheists and agnostics showing them that their position didn’t preclude their functioning as moral people. That’s good to know, but I still think that as believers we have a better chance of doing what is right, even when doing the wrong thing is easier.
When we come to faith in Jesus Christ, when we open ourselves to God’s transforming love shown in his life and work, something happens to us. Being a Christian isn’t all about assenting to a set of doctrinal statements, even though doctrine is – or at least can be – a good and necessary thing. Neither is being a Christian ascribing to a set of rules and regulations, though rules in themselves aren’t bad things. Rather, coming to faith in Christ involves coming into a relationship and involves our becoming conformed to Christ so that we might have “the same mind that was in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5). Thus, Paul tells the Galatians that it is not about any ritual, but about becoming a new creation. He says, “For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything, but a new creation is everything!” (Galatians 6:15).
To be a new creation means that we have allowed God’s life, God’s kingdom brought into the world through Jesus Christ, to enter into our very selves and then start reflecting it back to the world around us. The transformation into a child of God, a co-heir of the kingdom of God with Jesus Christ, is not something that we are to keep to ourselves. Jesus’ life was always other-centered. First, it was centered on the Other, with a capital ‘O,’ God the Father. Second, it was centered on others, small ‘o,’ meaning those around him. Jesus lived his life unselfishly and generously. He was very clear about his other-centeredness when he called the twelve and he is no less clear when he calls the seventy.
The seventy could represent a number of fulfillment, the known nations of the world reflecting the universality of Jesus’ message and call, or identify them with those called to assist Moses, since the early Church saw him as a type of Christ. The essence of their mission is really no different than ours – we’re to continue and to extend the work which Jesus began. That work started with the Incarnation, the enfleshment of God’s Word in Jesus the Christ, and the church – which is us – is called to continue the incarnation. In short, we’re to consistently do the right thing because of what we have become and who we are – not because of rules or beliefs, though these serve as our guides – even when doing the wrong thing is easier to do.
Well, there you have it. We’re to do the right thing consistently because in doing so we continue the work of Jesus and continue to make him present to the world. It reminds me of something I read about university students somewhere in the Midwest years ago wanting to learn about Hinduism. They found a practicing Hindu to come and explain his religion to them. The story goes that as he spoke to them, he started out by making some comparisons between Hinduism and Christianity and then stopped, looked at his audience and with absolute seriousness and eloquence said, “Most of you listening to me are Christians. I don’t want to appear to be preaching to you, but I must say this: if you Christians would live like Jesus, all of India would be at your feet tomorrow.” The answer is simple: live like Jesus; the complex part is how we go about it, because we’ve been trying and falling short since shortly after the first Pentecost!
Two quotes from eminent Britons come to mind as I think about how we’re supposed to accomplish this task of doing the right thing. One comes from Francis Bacon, the sixteenth- century philosopher, who said, “It’s not what we eat but what we digest that makes us strong; not what we gain but what we save that makes us rich; not what we read but what we remember that makes us learned; and not what we profess but what we practice that gives us integrity.” The other is from Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington, who said, “The battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton.” Both of these quotes speak to an important truth – doing the right thing grows out of a habit of being. In other words, it is in how we have formed ourselves, how we have developed character, and how we have practiced our faith that makes all the difference. A habit, remember, is something we do almost unconsciously because it has become part of who we are and part of how and where we live. Recalling that the root word for habit is also the word that gives us habitat and we should get the point.
I came across a wonderful book on Christian ethics called Improvisation: The Drama of Christian Ethics, by Samuel Wells, a priest of the Church of England. Wells addresses the need for character formation rather forcefully – in fact he’s the one who reminded me of Wellington. He tells a story that makes the point [SUMMARIZE and read the bold]:
One day in the 1950s, in an Edinburgh hospital, a child died tragically on an operating table. Later that week, two friends were talking over the sad events. One of the friends expressed sympathy for the surgeon involved, since he had encountered an unexpected complication. The other, a colleague of the surgeon, strongly disagreed, in these words: “I think the man is to blame. If anybody had handed me ether instead of chloroform I would have known from the weight that it was the wrong thing. You see, I know the man well. We were students together at Aberdeen, and he could have become one of the finest surgeons in Europe if only he had given his mind to it. But he didn’t; he was more interested in golf. So he just used to do enough work to pass his examinations and no more. And that is how he has lived his life – just enough to get through, but no more; so he has never picked up those seemingly peripheral bits of knowledge that can one day be crucial. The other day in that theater a bit of “peripheral” knowledge was crucial and he didn’t have it. But it wasn’t the other day that he failed – it was thirty-nine years ago, when he only gave himself half-heartedly to medicine.
The Duke of Wellington’s observation about a Belgian field applies equally well to the Edinburgh operating table. Just as the battle of Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton, so the battle for the sick child’s life was lost on the golf course. An athlete trains for months for a marathon race, and no amount of enthusiasm on the day can make up for deficiencies in preparation. A student studies for years for an exam: again, no amount of thought on the day can make up for deficiencies in preparation. A doctor studies and trains and practices for years to excel in surgery: no amount of goodwill on the day can make up for deficiencies in preparation.
Ethics is not primarily about the operating theater; it is about the lecture theater, the training field, the practice hall, the library, the tutorial, the mentoring session. There are two times – one, the time of moral effort, the other the time of moral habit. The time for moral effort is the time of formation and training. (Improvisation,74-75)
His point, ultimately, is that ethics is not about the situation, but about the preparation. The person we become is the person who will do the right thing because we have been formed in the right way and have developed the right habits.
So, how do we develop the habit of being that will enable us to live rightly? Let’s look at a couple of examples. I was a Rotarian for many years and the “Four-Way Test” of Rotary is one way people approach this formation: “Is it the truth? Is it fair to all concerned? Will it build goodwill and better friendships? Will it be beneficial to all concerned?” I also came across a syllabus for a course in moral formation that offered a series of questions: “What does my conscience – the ‘little voice inside my head’ – say about it? Could it hurt anyone – including me? Is it fair? Would it violate the Golden Rule? (How would I feel if somebody did it to me?) Have I ever been told that it’s wrong? How will I feel about myself later if I do it? What would adults I respect say about it?” Both are ok, actually good, but both rest on first having received information so that one can even ask the questions.
How do we come to know what is true, what is fair, and what is good? First, by opening ourselves to God’s Spirit in relationship, coming to have the mind of Christ formed within us. For a good brief overview, I would refer you to the Baptismal Covenant in the Book of Common Prayer (p. 304-5). Second, by practicing our faith, living as Jesus did, in relationship, worshipping regularly, engaging ourselves in prayer and study, and giving ourselves to service of others. If we don’t work at growing, we won’t grow, it’s that simple – you don’t get good at something by just giving it an hour a week, do you? So, how much time do you really give to loving and serving God? As the Indian philosopher Rabindranath Tagore said, “I slept and dreamt that life was joy/I awoke and saw life was service/I acted and, behold, service was joy.” (Quoted in John Shea, The Relentless Widow, p. 193).
Bottom line: I would say that we are to live what we say we believe and be who we say we are. Live what you believe. Do the right thing by being who you are as a child of God. If what you profess to be doesn’t match what you are doing, then it’s time to do a thorough review of how the faith is being practiced and making a difference in our lives. It goes back to what the nineteenth-century Congregational lay preacher D. L. Moody once said: “Integrity is what you are in the dark.”
Doing the right thing, being people of integrity, is part of what folks used to think made America great. Of late we’ve not been seeing a lot of emphasis on that; people are more concerned with BEING right, rather than DOING right. What is sad is how they’ll bend the truth, and treat others miserably, all in the pursuit of being right. We’ve even seen church people engage in these kinds of behaviors in recent years – to the detriment of the church and its witness. We need to remember that doing the right thing means to simply open yourself to God and keep on doing it: the right thing will follow. What did Jesus say? “Rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” Don’t grow weary in well-doing, and you’ll reap a harvest richer than you can imagine – life itself. Be who you profess to be and do the right thing…
History and historical perspectives long fascinated The Very Reverend Canon Steven Peay, Ph.D., Canon Theologian of Eau Claire and Canon Residentiary of Milwaukee, 20th Dean-President Emeritus of Nashotah House. Fr. Peay’s undergraduate study of Church History led him toward monastic life, which he entered at Saint Vincent Archabbey (Latrobe, PA) in 1977. Following his first profession of vows, he studied for the priesthood and after final vows was ordained deacon in 1981 and priest in 1982. The studies he began in college and pursued in seminary continued following his ordination. He returned to Saint Vincent to teach as Assistant Professor of Homiletics and Historical Theology. During his tenure at the seminary, he was also engaged in parish work (including one year as a pastor), retreats for clergy, religious, and laity, and served as the seminary’s academic dean for five years.
Leaving monastic life in 1994, he then devoted himself to parish work for the next fifteen years in Congregational churches in Wisconsin (Madison and Wauwatosa), while continuing to research, write and teach in various venues. Fr. Peay came to Nashotah House as adjunct professor of Church History in 2008 and was elected to the faculty in 2010. His orders were received in the Episcopal Church in August 2010. Fr. Peay’s research has largely focused on the American religious experience, its movements and ecclesial expressions. While his earlier research centered on the history of preaching, Peay also worked on Puritanism and Congregationalism and examined parallel movements for the recovery of the catholicity of the church (i.e., Mercersburg and Oxford). His publications included editing four books, articles, and reviews in The International Congregational Journal, The Catholic Historical Review, The Congregationalist, a reference article in The Encyclopedia of Protestantism and theological commentaries on the Triduum psalmody in Feasting on the Word (year A).
Fr. Peay’s hobbies included reading, cooking, trying to help around the garden, and music (particularly early to Baroque, English choral music, and jazz). Fr. Peay was married to his wife Julie in 1996 and was the proud stepfather of Jeremy and Matthew.