Sunday, August 18, 2013

Sermon: Cardboard Jesus

Luke 12:49-56
Cardboard Jesus
James Sledge                                                    August 18, 2013

In your mind, what does Jesus look like and act like? What sort of mental image do you have of him. Diane commented to me a while back that we don’t really have many pictures of Jesus around FCPC. I’m not sure what, if anything, that means, but I doubt it means that no one has an image of Jesus. So what is yours?
Growing up, I suppose that my image of Jesus came from Sunday School artwork. Considering how long ago that was, that meant a very European looking Jesus. Maybe not blond haired and blued eyed, but close. As I grew older, I shifted away from that image, and mine continues to evolve.
I went online and looked at the depictions of Jesus I found there, from famous masterpieces to modern cartoons. This vast array of images looked very different, but they tended to have a common feature. Jesus looked kind and gentle in the vast majority. There were some pictures of a suffering of stoic Jesus. There were some of a laughing Jesus, but almost none of a frustrated or angry Jesus. I found one picture of Jesus arm-wrestling with the devil, but he still had a sweet, kindly expression on his face.
Perhaps your mental image is different, but prevailing images of a sweet and kindly Jesus make today’s gospel reading a little jarring. “You hypocrites!” Jesus yells at the crowd. Jesus isn’t talking to opponents, to people trying to trip him up or trap him. He’s talking to the people who have come out to hear him, the people who are attracted to him and want to know him. But he seems beyond frustrated with them. And his words about being a source of division rather than peace don’t make this picture of Jesus any more palatable.

What is it that brings you out to worship on any given Sunday morning? I imagine that the answer varies greatly from person to person, and many people probably have more than one reason. But in talking to folks over the years, I think that a growing number of people come to churches because they have a desire to connect with the holy, to draw closer to God. Even those who speak of being “spiritual but not religious” are expressing some sort of desire to be close to the Source, in other words, to know God.
We Christians say that we are never closer to God than when we are in the presence of Jesus. We speak of this in a variety of ways. Jesus is God incarnate, the Word made flesh, and the image of the invisible God(Colossians 1:15). In the Presbyterian Church, membership is based on two simple things: baptism in the names of Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and the profession of Jesus as “Lord and Savior.” Lord is something of an archaic word, but it refers to Jesus as the one who is owed absolute loyalty and obedience. To follow him is to do precisely what God desires from us. As the disciple sometimes referred to as Doubting Thomas says when he sees the risen Jesus for himself, “My Lord and my God!”
When people are ordained in the Presbyterian Church as elders, pastors, or deacons, the vows taken focus on Jesus, and we promise to “fulfill our ministry in obedience to Jesus Christ.” As Christians and as Presbyterians we are insistent that if you want to know God and know what God hopes and dreams for you, you should get to know Jesus.
 At least that’s what we say. But we don’t always get to know Jesus in more than a superficial way. We have an image of him but it often doesn’t include the Jesus in today’s scripture or other passages that make us uncomfortable or challenge us too much.
Sometimes our Jesus is a little like those life-size cardboard cutouts of celebrities and politicians that you may have seen or even stood beside to get your picture taken. They’re obviously not real, but then again, neither are the images that many celebrities and politicians carefully craft for themselves, assisted by media and image consultants. It’s easy to see why they want images that appeal to fans or potential voters. And I suppose it’s also easy to understand why we might want our own cardboard Jesus, a divine yes-man who will always agree with us, support what we support and oppose what we oppose.
I assume that most of you are familiar with the corporate yes-man or yes-woman who always agrees with whatever the boss says. A variety of conditions can help create yes-men and women in an office, but companies where that is an integral part of the culture tend not to do well in the long term, for obvious reasons.
So too it does not bode well for deep and meaningful faith development to have a cardboard, yes-man Jesus. If Jesus cannot challenge us and get us to do and try things we would not have done on our own, then we will find ourselves in spiritual ruts. The trouble with cardboard Jesuses is that they are largely extensions of ourselves. There’s a liberal cardboard Jesus to make liberals feel good about themselves and a conservative cardboard Jesus to make conservatives feel good about themselves and additional cardboard Jesuses for every nuance and permutation on the political, social, and philosophical spectrum.
I actually found me a cardboard Jesus online, and I couldn’t resist bringing him today. This particular model goes by the name, “Wherever He Leads Me.” It’s an appropriate enough name, but of course, I can point my cardboard Jesus whatever direction I want him to go. He won’t ever lead me anywhere I don’t want to go.
And so when the Jesus in a scripture passage knocks our cardboard Jesus, we would do well to pay close attention. This may be one of those moments most of us say we want, an opportunity to draw close to God. The image of Jesus that startles us, challenges us, or even offends us, may be just what we need to get a more genuine picture of God.
“Do you think I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!” Cardboard Jesuses rarely talk this way. They support the status quo, at least the one that benefit us. But the living Jesus, the one who reveals God to us, does not. It’s there, even in those passages we don’t find offensive. The parable of the prodigal, where the father welcomes home a wayward child, ends with the good, well-behaved, diligent, older brother on the outside, wanting no part of what is happening. And even though I may say I long for the new day Jesus proclaims, I want it to come without interfering with any of the benefits and advantages I enjoy or think I deserve because of my place in the status quo. Cardboard Jesus is just fine with that.
“You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you do not know how to interpret the present time?” Cardboard Jesus would never address a friendly crowd as “Hypocrites.” For that matter, it’s a rather odd label to use for people who are simply ignorant. The Greek word u(pokrith/s (hupokritais), from which our word hypocrite comes, literally refers to a stage actor, to one who pretends. But this crowd of people who do not know how to read the signs of the times, they’re not pretending. Why would Jesus call them hypocrites if they simply don’t know?
Actually, I have a feeling that may be Jesus’ point. They do know, or at least they should. They have the Law and the Prophets and so they should be able to see what Jesus is all about. They should be a lot more than curious or intrigued. They should be joining him in the work of the Kingdom.
I have some personal experience here. On more than one occasion I have used ignorance as an excuse not to do what I know that God wants, or to avoid speaking about my faith. “I don’t know” or “My faith is not strong enough” makes a wonderful religious excuse. Cardboard Jesus no doubt agrees, but the living Jesus calls me on that one. “You hypocrite.”
But of course the living Jesus who knocks over my cardboard one is doing this out of love. This is the same Jesus who speaks of God’s endless desire to welcome sinners, God’s overwhelming desire to invite us into new life. But to do that, the living Jesus can’t simply leave us where we are. Sometimes he needs to challenge, unnerve, and prod us. Cardboard Jesus won’t, but the real, living Jesus will.
What is the real, living Jesus saying to you? What is the real, living Jesus calling you to become and to do?

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