Sermons and thoughts on faith on Scripture from my time at Old Presbyterian Meeting House and Falls Church Presbyterian Church, plus sermons and postings from "Pastor James," my blog while pastor at Boulevard Presbyterian in Columbus, OH.
Paul is "defending" himself in today's reading from Galatians. When you read Paul's letters, it is clear than many of the first Christians were not very happy with him. He was baptizing Christians without requiring them to be circumcised and become Jewish first. Quite understandably, those first Christians assumed that the faith emerging because the Jewish Messiah had died and been raised was a Jewish faith. How could it not be? And so Paul's activities didn't fit with their understanding of the faith. These new, Gentile converts were welcome, but only if they became Jewish.
In a similar fashion, the people of Nazareth in today's gospel are astounded at the power and wisdom they see in Jesus, but they simply cannot fit that into their already fixed view of things. They know who he is, where he comes from, who his family is. "And they took offense at him."
In the Greek language of the New Testament, the word translated "took offense" is the root of our word "scandalize." It literally means "to cause one to stumble." The folks in Nazareth stumbled over their preconceived picture of Jesus just as many of the first Christians stumbled over their preconceived picture of Jesus' followers having to be Jewish.
All of us have preconceived notions of what it means to be Christian, to be good and faithful. Many of these are likely reasonable and understandable notions. Many of them may be correct. But good, religious folks just like you and me rejected Jesus and tried to stop Paul because of their reasonable and understandable, preconceived notions. I wonder which of mine are tripping me up and causing me to stumble.
Today is Trinity Sunday, and pastors everywhere are grappling with this often neglected doctrine of the Church. 1 + 1 + 1 = 1, God in three persons, blessed Trinity. The Trinity is one of those Christian ideas that gets a lot of lip service but, it seems to me, not much thought during most of the year. A lot of people, even a lot of pastors, seem to view it as a doctrine we'd be fine without.
But I can't imagine faith without it. While the doctrine evades complete comprehension, I find that a good thing. Surely God is beyond my comprehension, and so it seems appropriate that a doctrine about God's nature would be a little hard to get your mind around. Also, the notion of the Trinity keeps at bay some popular misconceptions about God. God created humans because God would be lonely without us? Not according to the Trinity. Relationship already is a part of God. You like to picture God as one who makes simple rules, and then rewards and punishes according how well people keep them? Not according to the Trinity. If Jesus is truly God, then all those words about loving neighbor and forgiving and praying for your enemy are actually God's words. Think God is simply the Father? Not according to the Trinity. The Father is God, but Father no more defines and says all there is to say about God than does Son or Spirit. It isn't "Father-God" and a couple of junior partners who joined the game late.
The only complaint I have with the Trinity, and with Trinity Sunday, is the way we pastors drag out trite little formulas and analogies that try to make the Trinity "understandable." I think we'd do better to claim its mystery and recognize that it expresses something beyond understanding.
"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." I have to confess that I've always had some difficulty knowing how to reconcile these words with other things Jesus says about denying self and taking up the cross, about us needing a righteousness that exceeds that of the Pharisees, and so on.
Jesus tells us a number of times that doing God's will can be very difficult, so how can his yoke be easy? I don't know how certain I am about this, but I think Jesus draws a contrast between living in the ways that lead to true humanity, that help us become what we were created to be, compared to being religious for religiousness sake. The fact that Matthew immediately reports an argument about Jesus' disciples plucking grain on the Sabbath followed by a dispute over Jesus healing someone on the Sabbath seems to support this view.
So what's the difference between being religious for religiousness sake and living in ways that help us become what God intends us to be? I suspect that a great deal of current religious debate and controversy spring from differing answers to this question. If nothing else, that probably argues for a low level of certainty and arrogance regarding my own answer to the question.
I grew up in North and South Carolina. And although the Presbyterian churches of my childhood weren't all that Southern in feel, I had plenty of encounters with the church patterns of Southern Baptists, Methodists, Pentecostals, and so on. These included prayers liberally sprinkled with the word "just" and Jesus pronounced with three or four syllables. Sometimes this all came together in the faith profession, "We just love Jesus!"
In the congregations I attended, people didn't talk so much about loving Jesus, though I presume most folks there did. So was this just a style difference between us and our fellow Christians from other denominations? Is it like the differences between happily married couples, some who can't go five minutes without saying, "I love you," and others who rarely speak the words but seem to care deeply for each other?
'By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. For the love of God is this, that we obey his commandments." 1 John talks a lot about love, about God being love and about us loving God, about the relationship we have with God through Jesus. Sometimes Christians can talk about their connection to God in language that sounds more a contract or formula than a relationship. Believe the right things and get the goodies. But love can't ever be reduced to a contract or a formula.
What does it look like to love God? On the flip side, what does it mean that God loves us? Love seems to me more a dance than a formula, with each party moving and the other responding. So what does it mean to dance with God?
Many Christians are familiar with some of the lines in today's reading from 1 John. "Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God... God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them... Those who say, 'I love God,' and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen."
Given our familiarity with such words, it is somewhat disconcerting how easy many of us find it to dislike and hate others. Most everyone has heard examples of the terrible things committed in the name of religion, from the Crusades to burning "witches" at the stake to the group who protests at military funerals, claiming these soldiers' deaths are God's punishment because "God hates fags."
But beyond these sort of examples, I'm thinking more of the type I'm likely to engage in. When there are disagreements in congregations or in the denomination, the fighting can get nasty, with little evidence of love on either side. And it is all too easy to find myself thinking the absolute worst of those who disagree with me. It's an easy progression from they're wrong, to they're stubborn, to they're stupid, to I don't like them, to they're evil, to I hate them.
How do we love one another when we disagree, especially if we disagree about things we think are critically important? There is certainly no easy answer, but Jesus never said that following him was easy. He talked of taking up a cross. And it seems to me that learning to love one another while disagreeing might well be the most powerful witness the Church could make to the world about what it means to be people of God.
In today's gospel reading, John the baptizer, who is in prison, sends some of his disciples to question Jesus, asking if he is indeed the promised Messiah. I find it interesting the things Jesus says confirm that he is indeed this promised one. "The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them."
When you ask Christians what it means to be Christian, you get lots of different answers. Sadly, these answers sometimes say more about the cultural presuppositions of those questioned than they do about the ways of Jesus. Liberal or conservative, we all have a tendency to believe in a Jesus who talks and acts a lot like us. And so there is patriotic Jesus, meek and mild Jesus, social justice Jesus, sword wielding conqueror Jesus, and so on.
Because none of us are immune to this problem of fashioning a Jesus in our own image, it is a good idea to simply listen to Jesus now and then, doing our best not to filter what he says through our own biases. I wonder how well what Jesus points to in order to demonstrate he is God's Messiah fits in with what you or I think it means to follow Jesus. And if what Jesus is doing says anything about the Kingdom he is bringing, what does that say about how his followers should live and act?
Today is the birthday of the Church.Happy Birthday, Church.It is also the birthday of Ambrose Burnside, Civil War general from whom sideburns got their name.Bandleader Artie Shaw was born on this day, as was singer Rosemary Clooney.Boxer Marvelous Marvin Hagler, comedian Drew Carey, and singer Jewel also celebrate their birthdays today.Perhaps there is also someone here who is celebrating a birthday today.
Of course we’re not doing anything at my house to celebrate General Burnside’s birthday.I had to do a computer search just to know about it. Same for all those other folks.Some of those births may be historical events, but they’re little more than a passing curiosity to me.
It’s hard to get too excited about the birthday of someone you don’t know, and it’s even harder to get excited about some long dead historical figure.We may put George Washington’s birthday on calendars, but I can’t remember the exact date.I know it’s February.Even Jesus’ birthday had been long forgotten by the time the Church decided we ought to celebrate it.So they borrowed an existing holiday.
Not only do birthdays take on different significance when we know someone, but they feel different depending on the age of the person.I’ve been invited to a few 90th birthday parties, and even a couple of 100th birthdays.They have a very different feel from a first or second birthday party.They may be happy and joyous, a genuine celebration, but they do not anticipate much.The gaze at such a party is mostly toward the past, and there is a lot of remembering and reminiscing.There are certainly no gifts of clothes that must be grown into or toys that will help someone learn a new skill.
And now here we are at the Church’s birthday party.What sort of feel does is have for you?What sort of gifts would be appropriate?Is the gaze mostly toward past or the future?
If you grew up in the Church like I did, or even if you’ve simply been around the Church for a few years, you’ve likely heard about the Church’s birthday, about Pentecost and the Holy Spirit.The reading from Acts shows up most every Pentecost, and so many of us know that today commemorates the sending of the Holy Spirit.We speak of the Holy Spirit often.The Spirit is in our songs and hymns, in our creeds and prayers.And yet I know a lot of Christians who seem to think the Holy Spirit is a relic of the past.
I probably need to qualify that.A lot of Christians think the Holy Spirit described in the Pentecost story is a relic of the past.They’ll speak of the Spirit being with them or in them, but they seem to be describing a rather vague feeling.And sometimes they speak of the Spirit as something innate to humans, something that gives us an awareness of God.
But such notions have little connection to what the Bible and Jesus say about the Spirit.There the Spirit is not something naturally a part of us.Rather it is God’s presence and power sent to us to equip and empower us to be the body of Christ.The story in Acts vividly describes the disciples being given extraordinary gifts via the Spirit so they could share the good news with all.And when Jesus speaks with his followers just prior to his arrest in our gospel reading today, he promises that God will send the Spirit, the Advocate.And this gift is also associated with the church being empowered to continue Jesus’ ministry.Jesus says, “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father.I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son.”
According to our faith story, the Church whose birthday we celebrate is given extraordinary powers through the Spirit.Jesus promises to be present to us through the Spirit, and to do whatever we ask in his name.So why do so many Christians seem to see the Church like a hundred year old aunt or uncle who is still alive and vigorous, but whose days are obviously numbered?
If you’re not up on all things churchy, you may be unaware of the high level of anxiety that is out there in many denominations and congregations.Membership numbers for Presbyterians, Lutherans, Methodists, and Episcopalians have declined dramatically over the last few decades.In recent years, even folks like the Southern Baptists have joined in the decline.Statistically almost no one is doing well.And yet as we celebrate the Church’s birthday today, we hear Jesus telling us, “I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son.”What gives?
Growing up in the Church, I heard people routinely end their prayers with, “in Jesus’ name we pray.”I don’t know about you, but hearing this on a regular basis led me to believe that this was the proper formula to use if you wanted to get what you were asking for.It was a church equivalent of “pretty please” or “Abracadabra.”
But “in my name” was never meant as a formula.Rather, it describes the relationship of what Jesus’ followers are doing to what Jesus has done.It is about continuing Jesus’ ministry, about obeying his commandments.It is about being a community where the world can see the risen Christ still at work.“In my name” is Jesus entrusting us to be his faithful representatives in the world.And it is his promise to be with us and help us when we are faithful to that call.
And that raises a question.If we are feeling anxious about the future, if we are worried about the fate of the Church or our congregation, is it because Jesus was lying when he said he would give us what we asked for?Or is it because what we’re asking for, wishing for, pining for, isn’t what Jesus wants us to be doing on his behalf, in his name?
As we celebrate the Church’s birthday, it is natural to look back, to remember her triumphs and accomplishments.And I suppose it is only normal to worry when numbers go down and budgets are tight.But it seems to me that such times are also a call to take stock, to examine ourselves and ask where we are being faithful and where we need to move in new directions if we are to minister in Jesus’ name, on his behalf, if we are to be Christ to the world.
As we celebrate the Church’s birthday, I see clear signs that the Spirit is blowing through the Church, calling and empowering those who will look to the future.I hear the hope the Spirit brings in the voices of those on our Dream Team as they listen for where God is calling us.And I am convinced that when we are attentive to that call, the Spirit will be powerfully present, instructing and guiding us, gifting and empowering us.Where do you hear the Spirit moving us?What is Jesus calling us, and you, to do “in his name,” as his representatives.
As we celebrate the Church’s birthday, peering into an uncertain future, Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”You will do even greater works.And God will be glorified, and the world will see the Son in you.
What is it about me that most needs saving? That may seem an odd question to ask, but Christianity is, after all, a faith that speaks a lot about salvation and being saved. In his book, A New Kind of Christianity, Brian McLaren says of the younger generations that are drifting away from the Church, "they just can't figure out what they're being saved from, or for, enough to stay." (p. 162)
In today's gospel reading, Jesus first forgives and then heals a paralyzed man. The forgiveness bespeaks a deep compassion, "Take heart, son; your sins are forgiven." The healing is done - or so it seems - mostly to verify Jesus' authority to forgive sin. Would Jesus have healed the man had such proof not been needed? Did he need forgiveness more than healing? Was Jesus already going to heal him as well?
I don't know that the biblical text gives easy answers to such questions. Certainly Jesus is more often portrayed simply healing people, so the story may be more interested in talking about Jesus than about the paralyzed man. Perhaps the commonly held view that such maladies were the result of sin prompts Jesus to assure the man his relationship with God is restored. But in the end, while I try to determine how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, the paralyzed man is both healed and forgiven. His life is made whole and full.
Which takes me back to my original question, What about me most needs saving? Too often in the Church, we want to reduce salvation and saving to a status question meaning, "Has your ticket to heaven been punched." But there is nothing in this story, or any of the other saving stories in Matthew, about going to heaven. They are stories about healing, forgiving, restoring, and wholeness, not stories about what happens to you after you die.
Perhaps McLaren is correct. The biggest problem facing many denominations and congregations is the fact that salvation has become so disconnected from life. When salvation is about some far off heaven, what does it have to do with following Jesus or a kingdom that has "come near?"
As the author of Ephesians about how people's different spiritual gifts work together to build up the body of Christ, and how we are called to grow mature, he says that we are to speak "the truth in love." Yet I think I have seen truth used more often as a weapon than I have seen it used in a loving manner. We have proverbial sayings that reflect this. "The truth hurts." And there is nothing nastier than a fight over "religious truths."
But surely speaking truth in love should look somewhat kinder. Looking at the Jesus found in the gospels, when I see him speak his truth, it seems a much more gracious and generous truth that is often spoken by those of us who claim to follow him. He reaches out and embraces those the religious folks thought unlovable. He invites people to follow him, but I don't recall him ever threatening or verbally accosting someone who did not. He rarely spoke harshly or in anger, and then it was usually to stop religious authorities who wielded their "truth" like a weapon.
Insomuch as I and others like me call ourselves "Christians," it seems only appropriate that we should seek to model ourselves after Jesus. But we live in a culture that often prefers spin to truth, and that brings out the truth when it will provide an advantage. But what if we became Jesus-like truth tellers? What a powerful witness to the world that would be.
In today's gospel, Jesus speaks to the storm, and it obeys him. A raging storm becomes absolute calm. I know that as a preacher, I usually don't like it when such passages show up for Sunday. What do you say about Jesus doing a miracle such as this. About the only question that immediately comes to mind is, "Did this actually happen or not?"
Arguments about the Bible often follow the same sort of pattern. "Do you believe what it says is really true?" But I have started to think that the real significance of this story, and others like it, is less about what did or didn't happen and much more about what it means to depict Jesus as one whose voice can command creation.
I can decide to believe that Jesus did this miracle and that not necessarily make much difference in how I live or how I understand the nature of God, and so on. But when I start to explore the implications of this story... Only God can speak and creation respond. The real issue here is "Who is Jesus?" And if Jesus is indeed, Emmanuel, God with us, all sorts of other issues immediately arise.
For starters, if God can be fully present in a human being, then I immediately have to reconsider some popular notions about fleshy, physical existence being an inferior sort of existence. And if Jesus is truly God with us, then it seems that my understanding of who God is and what it means to be human are to be found here. It's not unusual to hear people speak of a meek and mild, loving Jesus while at the very same time picturing a demanding, harsh, God who has no trouble shipping off millions of people to eternal damnation. But if this Jesus who has compassion on the people because they are like sheep without a shepherd, who welcomes sinners and outcast, and who prays that his executioners be forgiven; if this Jesus is indeed God, then how can God be out to get so many people?
Just who is this Jesus? And do your answers actually fit with your basic notions of God, Christianity, and living the Christian life?
Paul is "defending" himself in today's reading from Galatians. When you read Paul's letters, it is clear than many of the first Christians were not very happy with him. He was baptizing Christians without requiring them to be circumcised and become Jewish first. Quite understandably, those first Christians assumed that the faith emerging because the Jewish Messiah had died and been raised was a Jewish faith. How could it not be? And so Paul's activities didn't fit with their understanding of the faith. These new, Gentile converts were welcome, but only if they became Jewish.
