Tomorrow is Rock and Roll Sunday, our big adventure in music and worship! We'll be outside, so bring lawn chairs if you want. We'll have a barbecue after, so side dishes would be great too! Come, enjoy, worship, eat, and bring friends! It should be a great Sunday for anybody who's not sure what our church is about!
Don't forget the Evangelism Worship following as well. Those participating in the workshop will grab some food first and workshop right after.
--Pastor Dave
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Friday, September 28, 2012
We Pray For...
...Katie Anderson-Nelson and her family this weekend as the Memorial Service for her husband Andrew will be held at the Valley Saturday at 11:00. Katie is the daughter of Joe and Gayle. All our prayers, condolences, and support are with them and with Andrew's family as well.
--Pastor Dave
--Pastor Dave
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Welcome Basket Tomorrow!
Don't forget tomorrow is our next Welcome Basket for our new neighbor right down the street! Bring something homemade if you can so we can welcome new friends!
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Thursday Evening Sermon: The God of the Cross
Our sermon text last Sunday came from Mark, Chapter 8.
In the sermon I hearkened back to quests for identity from our own cultural history. What is the role of women? How are African-Americans to be perceived? In general these movements have followed a pattern similar to this gospel.
1. Someone asks a question, either overtly or by taking an action perceived as being outside one's normal place. A married woman takes a job. An African-American woman sits at the front of the bus. Jesus does all of these amazing things and then asks his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?"
2. Part of society shies away from change. Another part, though, is open to re-defining roles. "Some say you are John the Baptist; others Elijah" is, in a way, the rejection of the new in favor of the old. "You are the Messiah" is the breakthrough for which Jesus has waited, the new and correct identification of him.
3. Even when we accept change--willingly or grudgingly--we still want to be in control of its definitions. "Woman's new identity revolves around the workplace. Stay-at-home moms, what's wrong with you?" Or, "African-Americans are victims of oppression. Hey, why aren't you acting like a victim? Why aren't you grateful that I have sympathy towards you and your plight?" Thus we get Peter naming Jesus the Messiah but completely rejecting what "Messiah" really means.
4. Once we've been through all of that junk--usually requiring decades to pass--we come to the conclusion that people get to define themselves. Women don't have to be homemakers or business go-getters. They can choose to be either, neither, or both. Whatever they choose, that's the definition of them! Our job isn't to force them into a box, but to respect their own definition and let it shape us. African-Americans can rightly point to prejudice in our society. They can just as rightly point to a heritage of strength and endurance. Or they can be free to be just as wonderful, awful, productive, selfish, wise, and mixed-up people as the rest of us are. Each person gets to choose and then educate us about who they are.
See, we had the equation backwards. We want our definitions to change other people. Instead other people's definitions of themselves are meant to change us.
This same thing happened to Jesus. He defined himself here. He is the Messiah of the Cross. He is the one who gives himself up completely for others, for the people he loves. His followers will need a cross also, if they are to understand and emulate him. They are to give themselves up for their neighbors, even if they suffer for it. When confronted with choice or crisis their response is to be self-giving love.
Not listening when Jesus says this is the same as not letting one of our fellow human beings define themselves...telling someone they can't have a job because they're a woman or they can't become president because they're African-American. Except now we're also telling that to God, trying to change him instead of letting him change us.
This is what we do every time we try to define Jesus as any lord but the Lord of the Cross. The God who makes us right, the God who makes us superior to others, the God who allows us to judge our neighbor, the God of the Correct Church, the God who doesn't care, the God who cares about some folks more than others...all of these are mis-definitions of God. And every one is a slap in the face to him.
How do you define God? From where do those definitions come? Do we define Christ as he defines himself or would we prefer to define him the way we want...the God of Us Alone instead of the God of the Cross? Are we sure we know what Messiah means?
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
27 Jesus and his disciples went on to the villages around Caesarea Philippi. On the way he asked them, “Who do people say I am?”28 They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.”29 “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”Peter answered, “You are the Messiah.”30 Jesus warned them not to tell anyone about him.31 He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again. 32 He spoke plainlyabout this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.33 But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. “Get behind me, Satan!” he said. “You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.”34 Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35 For whoever wants to save their life[b] will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it. 36 What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? 37 Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul? 38 If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of them when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels.”This whole passage revolves around the question of identity. Who is Jesus? How are we to define him?
In the sermon I hearkened back to quests for identity from our own cultural history. What is the role of women? How are African-Americans to be perceived? In general these movements have followed a pattern similar to this gospel.
1. Someone asks a question, either overtly or by taking an action perceived as being outside one's normal place. A married woman takes a job. An African-American woman sits at the front of the bus. Jesus does all of these amazing things and then asks his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?"
2. Part of society shies away from change. Another part, though, is open to re-defining roles. "Some say you are John the Baptist; others Elijah" is, in a way, the rejection of the new in favor of the old. "You are the Messiah" is the breakthrough for which Jesus has waited, the new and correct identification of him.
3. Even when we accept change--willingly or grudgingly--we still want to be in control of its definitions. "Woman's new identity revolves around the workplace. Stay-at-home moms, what's wrong with you?" Or, "African-Americans are victims of oppression. Hey, why aren't you acting like a victim? Why aren't you grateful that I have sympathy towards you and your plight?" Thus we get Peter naming Jesus the Messiah but completely rejecting what "Messiah" really means.
4. Once we've been through all of that junk--usually requiring decades to pass--we come to the conclusion that people get to define themselves. Women don't have to be homemakers or business go-getters. They can choose to be either, neither, or both. Whatever they choose, that's the definition of them! Our job isn't to force them into a box, but to respect their own definition and let it shape us. African-Americans can rightly point to prejudice in our society. They can just as rightly point to a heritage of strength and endurance. Or they can be free to be just as wonderful, awful, productive, selfish, wise, and mixed-up people as the rest of us are. Each person gets to choose and then educate us about who they are.
See, we had the equation backwards. We want our definitions to change other people. Instead other people's definitions of themselves are meant to change us.
This same thing happened to Jesus. He defined himself here. He is the Messiah of the Cross. He is the one who gives himself up completely for others, for the people he loves. His followers will need a cross also, if they are to understand and emulate him. They are to give themselves up for their neighbors, even if they suffer for it. When confronted with choice or crisis their response is to be self-giving love.
Not listening when Jesus says this is the same as not letting one of our fellow human beings define themselves...telling someone they can't have a job because they're a woman or they can't become president because they're African-American. Except now we're also telling that to God, trying to change him instead of letting him change us.
This is what we do every time we try to define Jesus as any lord but the Lord of the Cross. The God who makes us right, the God who makes us superior to others, the God who allows us to judge our neighbor, the God of the Correct Church, the God who doesn't care, the God who cares about some folks more than others...all of these are mis-definitions of God. And every one is a slap in the face to him.
How do you define God? From where do those definitions come? Do we define Christ as he defines himself or would we prefer to define him the way we want...the God of Us Alone instead of the God of the Cross? Are we sure we know what Messiah means?
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Day of Judgment
This question comes from someone outside our church but I thought it might be of interest to all.
Also, everybody within the sound of my voice, memorize what I'm about to say. Get your eyes ready. Read it carefully. Commit it to heart.
I DO TEACH YOU ABOUT THE DAY OF JUDGMENT WITH EVERY WORD I PREACH.
Are the capital letters enough? Should I bold and italicize it too?
Understand that on the Day of Judgment you will not be judged on how perfect you are. Nor will you be judged on whether you adopted the right moral code, had the right beliefs in your head, or went to church "x" number of times out of "y" Sundays in your life. We all fail on all those accounts. Nobody is sinless. Nobody lives up to even the simplest, clearest moral code. We can't understand it well enough even if it's the right one. Using church attendance as a barometer of rightness is wrong in so many ways I don't even know how to begin. It's the wrong verb ("attend"), it's self-serving and presumptuous for the church, it turns God into a bean-counter and salvation into a mathematical equation, it depends on Christ in name only...and that's just the start.
The only thing you will even have a prayer of lifting your head about on that Day of Judgment--THE ONLY THING--will be those times that you loved...no matter how humbly and poorly. The only currency on that day that matters is LOVE: God's love for you first, your love for those around you second.
If God does not love you and give you his grace and mercy on that day nothing else you have said, achieved, or believed will matter.
If God asks you a question on that day it will not be "How right were you?" or "How sinless were you?" or "Which church did you go to?" If there's going to be any question it will be, "[Insert your own name here], did you love as I loved you?"
Now granted, we're going to fall short on that account, as nobody can love as selflessly as God did. But at least we're playing the right game there, even if the score isn't high enough to win. All of these other ideas about Judgment Day--basing it one something besides love--are like bringing a baseball bat to a chess match. Even your best swing is just going to ruin things and hurt people.
Now stop and ask yourself...what do I preach about, talk about, urge you into, bring up in Bible Study, write music about, encourage the kids to do, etc, etc, etc.? Service, forgiveness, attempting to understand each other, listening to and caring for the people around you all amount to one thing: love. I preach this gospel not because I'm all smarmy-lovey but because it's the one Jesus preached. It's not that hard to understand. If you just take care of the love part, everything else falls in line. Loving is the right theology. Loving is the heart of every moral code. Loving and being loved should be the two most basic reasons we participate in church.
I would argue strongly that I am giving you the very heart of the matter that will be at stake on Judgment Day every time I open my mouth. If there's a problem it's that we haven't let go of those bad old understandings of that event...that love doesn't sound important on the day it matters most...that we don't get that the love of Jesus for us and his sacrifice are the only things that give us any prayer of passing beyond that day into heaven. We want to make even that Ultimate Day about us, about our power, about our achievements and goodness instead of about God and his love for us. Ironically enough, that's the same sin we've committed from the very start (eating fruit = making everything about us). We're determined that we will view everything through that lens right up to the very last day of existence, I guess.
I understand this impulse, but that doesn't make it right. We should probably stop. We need to stop thinking about the Judgement Day in ways that are going to get us in trouble on Judgment Day.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Pastor Dave,
I've read and listen to your sermons and thoughts over the last few months and I have a question. How come you never talk about Judgment Day when we come face to face with God? Isn't that part of the Bible too?Yes, it is. And we have actually delved into it during Bible Studies on Revelation and occasionally as a side topic when studying other books. But that's the key...you have to put those parts of scripture in context. That's hard in a forum like this or even in a 12-15 minute sermon. The problem with concepts like this not that they, themselves are un-scriptural. Rather people lift them out in such a way that makes the discussion of them un-scriptural, poisoning what was meant to be good by turning it to their own ends. This has been done so often with the Day of Judgment and other related topics that even mentioning them starts people thinking down paths that are wrong. The conversation is diverted into yuck before we even start. The only cure for this is to place the topic where it belongs, in the larger scope of scripture. While we might mention Judgment Day less often than some churches do I guarantee you we've done more to study the Book of Revelation, and brought more real meaning out of it, than most churches do.
Also, everybody within the sound of my voice, memorize what I'm about to say. Get your eyes ready. Read it carefully. Commit it to heart.
I DO TEACH YOU ABOUT THE DAY OF JUDGMENT WITH EVERY WORD I PREACH.
Are the capital letters enough? Should I bold and italicize it too?
Understand that on the Day of Judgment you will not be judged on how perfect you are. Nor will you be judged on whether you adopted the right moral code, had the right beliefs in your head, or went to church "x" number of times out of "y" Sundays in your life. We all fail on all those accounts. Nobody is sinless. Nobody lives up to even the simplest, clearest moral code. We can't understand it well enough even if it's the right one. Using church attendance as a barometer of rightness is wrong in so many ways I don't even know how to begin. It's the wrong verb ("attend"), it's self-serving and presumptuous for the church, it turns God into a bean-counter and salvation into a mathematical equation, it depends on Christ in name only...and that's just the start.
The only thing you will even have a prayer of lifting your head about on that Day of Judgment--THE ONLY THING--will be those times that you loved...no matter how humbly and poorly. The only currency on that day that matters is LOVE: God's love for you first, your love for those around you second.
If God does not love you and give you his grace and mercy on that day nothing else you have said, achieved, or believed will matter.
If God asks you a question on that day it will not be "How right were you?" or "How sinless were you?" or "Which church did you go to?" If there's going to be any question it will be, "[Insert your own name here], did you love as I loved you?"
Now granted, we're going to fall short on that account, as nobody can love as selflessly as God did. But at least we're playing the right game there, even if the score isn't high enough to win. All of these other ideas about Judgment Day--basing it one something besides love--are like bringing a baseball bat to a chess match. Even your best swing is just going to ruin things and hurt people.
Now stop and ask yourself...what do I preach about, talk about, urge you into, bring up in Bible Study, write music about, encourage the kids to do, etc, etc, etc.? Service, forgiveness, attempting to understand each other, listening to and caring for the people around you all amount to one thing: love. I preach this gospel not because I'm all smarmy-lovey but because it's the one Jesus preached. It's not that hard to understand. If you just take care of the love part, everything else falls in line. Loving is the right theology. Loving is the heart of every moral code. Loving and being loved should be the two most basic reasons we participate in church.
I would argue strongly that I am giving you the very heart of the matter that will be at stake on Judgment Day every time I open my mouth. If there's a problem it's that we haven't let go of those bad old understandings of that event...that love doesn't sound important on the day it matters most...that we don't get that the love of Jesus for us and his sacrifice are the only things that give us any prayer of passing beyond that day into heaven. We want to make even that Ultimate Day about us, about our power, about our achievements and goodness instead of about God and his love for us. Ironically enough, that's the same sin we've committed from the very start (eating fruit = making everything about us). We're determined that we will view everything through that lens right up to the very last day of existence, I guess.
I understand this impulse, but that doesn't make it right. We should probably stop. We need to stop thinking about the Judgement Day in ways that are going to get us in trouble on Judgment Day.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Annual and Quarterly Meeting Minutes
The April 22, 2012 quarterly meeting and January
29, 2012 annual meeting minutes have been posted.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Prayer Request
We don't normally do prayer requests online for various reasons, but the family specifically asked for your prayers and waiting six days until Sunday doesn't seem right in this case, so here you go.
Many of you know Dorothy and Andy, from our church. Andy is not doing well and is on comfort care. Please pray for them and their family. If you don't know who I'm talking about or have other questions or concerns, feel free to e-mail or call.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Many of you know Dorothy and Andy, from our church. Andy is not doing well and is on comfort care. Please pray for them and their family. If you don't know who I'm talking about or have other questions or concerns, feel free to e-mail or call.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Next Two Sundays!
I'm a little pressed for time today so I'm just going to remind you about the highlights of the next two Sundays.
Next Sunday, the 23rd, will be a big Sunday outside of worship. We're delivering our third Good Neighbor Welcome Basket to neighbors just down the street. We invite you to bring homemade items for the basket to help us welcome our third new family in the neighborhood!
Next Sunday is also the first Confirmation class of the new year. Sunday School gets going with their first official lesson of the year. We could use a couple people to help share stories about their jobs/calling with the kids, so talk to me or a friendly Sunday School teacher if you can assist for a Sunday!
Sunday the 30th is our Rock 'n Roll Sunday! I think this is going to blow your socks off...or at least get your toes tapping even if they're still covered. Weather permitting, we'll have service in the courtyard grass between the church and the parsonage so bring lawn chairs. We're going to barbecue one last time so side dishes would be appreciated. Most of all the service is going to be full of music talking about our beliefs and who we are as a church. It will be a great reminder for those of us familiar with our faith and a great chance for newer folks to find out more about our faith story. (And eat that BBQ!)
Following the big worship-a-palooza we will begin our final session of the Evangelism Workshops we've been running all year. We'll try to be time-conscious, knowing that some of you will have been here since Sunday School, but we couldn't really push the workshop later in the day or later in the year without losing people. It's going to be an especially appropriate experience given the energy of the morning. If you haven't been to an Evangelism Workshop yet, do come.
We'll look forward to these and plenty other exciting Sundays to come!
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
P.S. We're looking for people to help plan Advent worship this year. That begins in December but we want to start planning early. Talk to me or Phyllis Kanikkeberg if you can help.
P.P.S. Youth Girls Campout at Phyllis' on September 29th beginning at 7:00 p.m.!
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Monday Morning Sermon (Part 3) Why Did Jesus Say That?
Our week-long look at last Sunday's texts continues with a peek at the gospel, Mark 7: 24-37.
I suppose we could attempt to soften the blow of the words. We could talk about dogs still being members of the household. We could skip to the eventual healing right away and ignore the statement altogether. Either approach would be an injustice or worse, seem like permission. As long as we perceive ourselves bringing good--or bringing God--to someone we have license to say whatever we wish? Some Christians have adopted that very philosophy and caused much damage thereby. "Turn to Christ, you stupid, ignorant heathen!" Which weighs more in that statement, Christ or the insults?
We need to give full gravity to the harshness of these words. We also need to admit that there are some things that God can say that we cannot. That rankles us with our old impulses to become God ourselves. One of the problems with that attempt at equality is that we tend to regard "harsh" and "powerful" as the same thing. "You're a dog!" seems like a more powerful and direct statement than "Love your neighbor". Even though Jesus says the latter (in one way or another) 60,000 times in the gospels and the former only once, we seize on the most powerful statement we can find when we try to assume the role of God, the better to prove our power. "Being God" doesn't mean loving your neighbor, it means the freedom to call your neighbor a dog with impunity. This isn't what Christ showed us about God, no matter what this statement appears to say.
So once again...why this statement to a poor, needy woman?
For the last couple of days here we've talked about faith being a relationship. We've also talked about faith and works being bound together. When you try to separate one from the other you end up with neither.
The woman in this gospel was a Greek, living near the city of Tyre, born in Syrian Phoenicia. Forget the intricacies of geography...here's what's important about that: this woman would have had no clue who Jesus was outside of rumor. She had no cultural, social, or religious relationship with him, with the scriptures which framed his ministry, with the God he embodied. All she knew was a travelling healer coming through town. She was desperate enough to try him out, for the sake of her daughter.
Had Jesus simply healed the woman's daughter without comment, that's all she ever would have known. Granted, she would have understood his effectiveness. "He was a great guy," she would have said, "His stuff really worked!" But where would that have left her and her daughter? They still wouldn't have known who Jesus was, nor God. They still would have had no relationship. They would have experienced a great work completely absent of the context of faith. Even that work, as great as it was, would prove temporary. The woman's daughter went on with her life, grew up, lived, and then died. Without some greater sense of faith and its meaning, that's all there is to the story. The woman and child were just like billions of others who have lived on the planet. So what?
As odd as it seems, Jesus' statement about dogs and table scraps put this whole story into a faith context.
Here's another thing you should know about that statement: though it's shocking to us, Jesus' Jewish followers wouldn't have blinked an eye at it. That's generally what they thought! They were God's chosen people. Everybody else was not as favored. (Lest you think this is confined to ancient Jews, consider how many Christian churches today preach that same message, just swapping in Christ.) If anything, their reaction to Jesus' utterance here would have been, "It's about time! And can we get back to decent lands now?"
It's doubtful that the woman would have been surprised by the statement either. Most cultures were at least mildly xenophobic back then. If she knew anything about Jews she would have known she was not like them. Her people considered them lowly, they considered her lowly in return.
The real surprise here comes in her response. She doesn't deny the charges. She doesn't get angry. She doesn't protect herself or shy away from the accusation. Her eyes remain focused on the real issue: not her, but her daughter. Her love for her daughter trumps everything. The need for her daughter to be healed--another's need rather than just her own--remains paramount.
Jesus' statement about dogs questioned this woman's identity. In essence he said to her, "These men all say you're a dog. Culture says you're a dog. Society says you're a dog. I've just compared you to a dog. Who are you?" Her answer? "I am the one who cares about somebody besides myself. It doesn't matter who I am. There's a child in need. I am the one who names you as the one who can help. Whatever you need to say or think or call me in order to help this child...do it."
I'm surprised that Jesus wasn't in tears as he told her that her daughter was healed. And it's no accident that he said, "For such a [faithful] reply" your daughter is healed. Between the two of them they had redefined what faith and rightness mean. Faith and right are not about culture, gender, society, religious rules. Those aren't sufficient to describe our relationship with God. Faith is about saying exactly what the woman said, "Whatever goodness exists, God, you are the source. Whatever happens to me, bless my neighbor with that goodness." Those two statements describe our relationship with God and the relationship he wants us to have with the world. The blessing, healing, and good work will naturally follow.
It's important to understand that Jesus' statement didn't end up burying this woman, but revealed how amazing she actually was. This woman with no clue and no prior relationship with God, bearing only her need and her love, taught every one of us the real meaning of faith.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
24 Jesus left that place and went to the vicinity of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it; yet he could not keep his presence secret. 25 In fact, as soon as she heard about him, a woman whose little daughter was possessed by an impure spirit came and fell at his feet. 26 The woman was a Greek, born in Syrian Phoenicia. She begged Jesus to drive the demon out of her daughter.
27 “First let the children eat all they want,” he told her, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”
28 “Lord,” she replied, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
29 Then he told her, “For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter.”
30 She went home and found her child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
31 Then Jesus left the vicinity of Tyre and went through Sidon, down to the Sea of Galilee and into the region of the Decapolis. 32 There some people brought to him a man who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged Jesus to place his hand on him.
33 After he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man’s ears. Then he spit and touched the man’s tongue. 34 He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, “Ephphatha!” (which means “Be opened!”). 35 At this, the man’s ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly.
36 Jesus commanded them not to tell anyone. But the more he did so, the more they kept talking about it. 37 People were overwhelmed with amazement. “He has done everything well,” they said. “He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.”The most striking (shocking?) part of this text comes in the first healing story, where Jesus appears to put a woman through the wringer before healing her daughter. We expect a lot of things to come out of the mouth of the Savior, but, "It is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to the dogs" isn't one of them! Is Jesus being mean here? Our Jesus?
I suppose we could attempt to soften the blow of the words. We could talk about dogs still being members of the household. We could skip to the eventual healing right away and ignore the statement altogether. Either approach would be an injustice or worse, seem like permission. As long as we perceive ourselves bringing good--or bringing God--to someone we have license to say whatever we wish? Some Christians have adopted that very philosophy and caused much damage thereby. "Turn to Christ, you stupid, ignorant heathen!" Which weighs more in that statement, Christ or the insults?
We need to give full gravity to the harshness of these words. We also need to admit that there are some things that God can say that we cannot. That rankles us with our old impulses to become God ourselves. One of the problems with that attempt at equality is that we tend to regard "harsh" and "powerful" as the same thing. "You're a dog!" seems like a more powerful and direct statement than "Love your neighbor". Even though Jesus says the latter (in one way or another) 60,000 times in the gospels and the former only once, we seize on the most powerful statement we can find when we try to assume the role of God, the better to prove our power. "Being God" doesn't mean loving your neighbor, it means the freedom to call your neighbor a dog with impunity. This isn't what Christ showed us about God, no matter what this statement appears to say.
So once again...why this statement to a poor, needy woman?
For the last couple of days here we've talked about faith being a relationship. We've also talked about faith and works being bound together. When you try to separate one from the other you end up with neither.
The woman in this gospel was a Greek, living near the city of Tyre, born in Syrian Phoenicia. Forget the intricacies of geography...here's what's important about that: this woman would have had no clue who Jesus was outside of rumor. She had no cultural, social, or religious relationship with him, with the scriptures which framed his ministry, with the God he embodied. All she knew was a travelling healer coming through town. She was desperate enough to try him out, for the sake of her daughter.
Had Jesus simply healed the woman's daughter without comment, that's all she ever would have known. Granted, she would have understood his effectiveness. "He was a great guy," she would have said, "His stuff really worked!" But where would that have left her and her daughter? They still wouldn't have known who Jesus was, nor God. They still would have had no relationship. They would have experienced a great work completely absent of the context of faith. Even that work, as great as it was, would prove temporary. The woman's daughter went on with her life, grew up, lived, and then died. Without some greater sense of faith and its meaning, that's all there is to the story. The woman and child were just like billions of others who have lived on the planet. So what?
As odd as it seems, Jesus' statement about dogs and table scraps put this whole story into a faith context.
Here's another thing you should know about that statement: though it's shocking to us, Jesus' Jewish followers wouldn't have blinked an eye at it. That's generally what they thought! They were God's chosen people. Everybody else was not as favored. (Lest you think this is confined to ancient Jews, consider how many Christian churches today preach that same message, just swapping in Christ.) If anything, their reaction to Jesus' utterance here would have been, "It's about time! And can we get back to decent lands now?"
It's doubtful that the woman would have been surprised by the statement either. Most cultures were at least mildly xenophobic back then. If she knew anything about Jews she would have known she was not like them. Her people considered them lowly, they considered her lowly in return.
The real surprise here comes in her response. She doesn't deny the charges. She doesn't get angry. She doesn't protect herself or shy away from the accusation. Her eyes remain focused on the real issue: not her, but her daughter. Her love for her daughter trumps everything. The need for her daughter to be healed--another's need rather than just her own--remains paramount.
Jesus' statement about dogs questioned this woman's identity. In essence he said to her, "These men all say you're a dog. Culture says you're a dog. Society says you're a dog. I've just compared you to a dog. Who are you?" Her answer? "I am the one who cares about somebody besides myself. It doesn't matter who I am. There's a child in need. I am the one who names you as the one who can help. Whatever you need to say or think or call me in order to help this child...do it."
I'm surprised that Jesus wasn't in tears as he told her that her daughter was healed. And it's no accident that he said, "For such a [faithful] reply" your daughter is healed. Between the two of them they had redefined what faith and rightness mean. Faith and right are not about culture, gender, society, religious rules. Those aren't sufficient to describe our relationship with God. Faith is about saying exactly what the woman said, "Whatever goodness exists, God, you are the source. Whatever happens to me, bless my neighbor with that goodness." Those two statements describe our relationship with God and the relationship he wants us to have with the world. The blessing, healing, and good work will naturally follow.
It's important to understand that Jesus' statement didn't end up burying this woman, but revealed how amazing she actually was. This woman with no clue and no prior relationship with God, bearing only her need and her love, taught every one of us the real meaning of faith.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Monday Morning Sermon (Part 2) Faith and Works
Our look at last Sunday's texts continues today. In case you forgot from yesterday, James 2 provided fodder for the sermon:
(Side Note: This shows that, modern arguments from certain corners aside, not even Luther felt that all words in scripture weighed exactly the same. You can't dismiss any of them. They all have meaning and importance. But some influence us more than others. That's built into the system, as is debate about how central each text should be.)
While Luther was correct and James' wording was perhaps a bit...inelegant, James does have a point here. The danger of the true statement "faith alone saves" is that if you misidentify what "faith" is, you have no corrective. You're up the creek.
Sadly many of us continue to misidentify what faith is.
Remember how we just discussed our objectification of sin and the Law--making both into objects that we tote around with us and bring out when convenient--and how that leads us astray? We do the same thing with faith. We say faith is a "thing" that we "have" or a belief that we "hold". We consider faith an ingredient in the overall recipe of our lives, like a teaspoon of baking soda going in with the flour of our work, home life, and recreation. This leads us astray.
Holding this definition of faith, when we hear "faith alone saves" our response becomes, "OK. I've got it!" We figure we're good there. As long as we keep going to church and believing the right way, we're taken care of.
But look! Now we're not talking about faith anymore. We're back to works. "Going to church" and "believing the right way" are things that we do, choices we make. Making faith a passive object in our active life reduces it, kills it even.
This is exactly where you get the modern church-goers who are so proud of themselves that they go to the "right" church and made the "right" decisions and whose primary concern in regard to Christianity is to go around trying to ascertain whether everybody else has done so as well. "Knock. Knock. Knock. Have you accepted the Lord Jesus into your life?" (As if the person who "accepted Jesus" now carries him around in their pocket. He's on the porch but not in the house.) People run from that kind of Christianity the same way they run from church folks who say that being rich gets you into heaven. And they should run! Attendance and saying you believe the right thing have replaced cash but the system is still just as backwards and unfaithful.
Like the Law, like sin, faith is a relationship. It's not an object that you--"you" being separate from faith--wear like a badge, carry in your pocket, or form in your head. It's not an ingredient alongside all the other things in life, it is life. Or rather life apart from faith is temporary, transient, quickly on its way to death. Faith doesn't sit alongside life. Faith transforms what was once dead into life.
When you understand faith as an active relationship, permeating everything, this question of "faith without works" becomes silly. They become one and the same. Every work becomes a work of faith. Every understanding of faith affects your life and the way you do things. They're two sides of the same coin. You can't have one without the other. If you can even imagine faith without it affecting how you do things then what you're imagining isn't faith.
This is exactly what James is saying. He's not arguing that works are superior to faith. He's arguing that without works, you don't have faith in the first place. The works may not be grand. We may be talking about feeding your kids boxed macaroni and cheese here, or reaching out to take someone's hand from the hospital bed in which you are confined, or simply smiling when you say, "Hello" to a stranger. But big or small, unless your faith propels you to care about the world and your neighbor, what good is it?
If faith is just about us--our thoughts and beliefs, our comfort, our salvation--then it's ultimately a selfish endeavor. Know this: The opposite of faith isn't unbelief. The opposite of faith is selfishness. When you throw that kind of selfishness into the mix, "faith alone saves" becomes a poisonous statement...not because the statement is wrong, but because faith is mis-defined. The only way to make sure the definition is going well is to make sure your faith lives and breathes for others, that it leads you into loving your neighbor as yourself, and that you're following it.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
2 My brothers and sisters, believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ must not show favoritism. 2 Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in filthy old clothes also comes in. 3 If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, “Here’s a good seat for you,” but say to the poor man, “You stand there” or “Sit on the floor by my feet,” 4 have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?
5 Listen, my dear brothers and sisters: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him? 6 But you have dishonored the poor. Is it not the rich who are exploiting you? Are they not the ones who are dragging you into court? 7 Are they not the ones who are blaspheming the noble name of him to whom you belong?
8 If you really keep the royal law found in Scripture, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing right. 9 But if you show favoritism, you sin and are convicted by the law as lawbreakers. 10 For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it. 11 For he who said, “You shall not commit adultery,” also said, “You shall not murder.” If you do not commit adultery but do commit murder, you have become a lawbreaker.
12 Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, 13 because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment.
14 What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? 15 Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. 16 If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? 17 In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.The most famous part of James' assertion here is that "faith not accompanied by action is dead". Along with the question in verse 14, "Can such faith save them?" (some translations leaving out the word "such") this drove Martin Luther crazy. Luther rightly asserted that faith is the only thing that saves. We cannot be saved by our good works. If that were possible, why would Jesus have needed to die on the cross for us? We just would have worked our way into heaven. God saves. People don't. So Luther looked at James and said, "Bzzzt! Try again."
(Side Note: This shows that, modern arguments from certain corners aside, not even Luther felt that all words in scripture weighed exactly the same. You can't dismiss any of them. They all have meaning and importance. But some influence us more than others. That's built into the system, as is debate about how central each text should be.)
While Luther was correct and James' wording was perhaps a bit...inelegant, James does have a point here. The danger of the true statement "faith alone saves" is that if you misidentify what "faith" is, you have no corrective. You're up the creek.
Sadly many of us continue to misidentify what faith is.
Remember how we just discussed our objectification of sin and the Law--making both into objects that we tote around with us and bring out when convenient--and how that leads us astray? We do the same thing with faith. We say faith is a "thing" that we "have" or a belief that we "hold". We consider faith an ingredient in the overall recipe of our lives, like a teaspoon of baking soda going in with the flour of our work, home life, and recreation. This leads us astray.
Holding this definition of faith, when we hear "faith alone saves" our response becomes, "OK. I've got it!" We figure we're good there. As long as we keep going to church and believing the right way, we're taken care of.
But look! Now we're not talking about faith anymore. We're back to works. "Going to church" and "believing the right way" are things that we do, choices we make. Making faith a passive object in our active life reduces it, kills it even.
This is exactly where you get the modern church-goers who are so proud of themselves that they go to the "right" church and made the "right" decisions and whose primary concern in regard to Christianity is to go around trying to ascertain whether everybody else has done so as well. "Knock. Knock. Knock. Have you accepted the Lord Jesus into your life?" (As if the person who "accepted Jesus" now carries him around in their pocket. He's on the porch but not in the house.) People run from that kind of Christianity the same way they run from church folks who say that being rich gets you into heaven. And they should run! Attendance and saying you believe the right thing have replaced cash but the system is still just as backwards and unfaithful.
Like the Law, like sin, faith is a relationship. It's not an object that you--"you" being separate from faith--wear like a badge, carry in your pocket, or form in your head. It's not an ingredient alongside all the other things in life, it is life. Or rather life apart from faith is temporary, transient, quickly on its way to death. Faith doesn't sit alongside life. Faith transforms what was once dead into life.
When you understand faith as an active relationship, permeating everything, this question of "faith without works" becomes silly. They become one and the same. Every work becomes a work of faith. Every understanding of faith affects your life and the way you do things. They're two sides of the same coin. You can't have one without the other. If you can even imagine faith without it affecting how you do things then what you're imagining isn't faith.
This is exactly what James is saying. He's not arguing that works are superior to faith. He's arguing that without works, you don't have faith in the first place. The works may not be grand. We may be talking about feeding your kids boxed macaroni and cheese here, or reaching out to take someone's hand from the hospital bed in which you are confined, or simply smiling when you say, "Hello" to a stranger. But big or small, unless your faith propels you to care about the world and your neighbor, what good is it?
If faith is just about us--our thoughts and beliefs, our comfort, our salvation--then it's ultimately a selfish endeavor. Know this: The opposite of faith isn't unbelief. The opposite of faith is selfishness. When you throw that kind of selfishness into the mix, "faith alone saves" becomes a poisonous statement...not because the statement is wrong, but because faith is mis-defined. The only way to make sure the definition is going well is to make sure your faith lives and breathes for others, that it leads you into loving your neighbor as yourself, and that you're following it.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Monday, September 10, 2012
Monday Morning Sermon (Part 1)
Last Sunday's bulletin was full of juicy, interesting scripture so we're going to take a detour this week. Instead of a Monday sermon recap plus a bunch of other posts, we're going to spend a few days looking at the more thought-provoking parts of all our Sunday readings. It's like a pastor's dream...a sermon that lasts all week!
We'll begin with the text upon which the sermon was based, James 2: 1-17.
On Sunday we talked about the whole faith and works thing. We'll get to that another day. The other sermon I wanted to preach was on the paragraph from verses 8-13. James makes a bold claim: if you break one part of the Law you've broken it all. I've talked about similar things using the same commandment he cites, "Love your neighbor as yourself." But James takes it even further in verse 11 by pointing to the great Law-Giver. The same One who said one part of the Law also said the other. To go against his word in one way is the same as going against it in the other.
In one swoop James personalizes all of the Law and Scripture. This is a brilliant corrective to the bugaboo we've been talking about for the last couple weeks: objectifying (and thus depersonalizing and distancing) our faith.
As with sin two Sundays ago, as with faith last Sunday, we fall into the trap of thinking about offenses against the Law as things unto themselves. "I committed this sin but I did not commit that one. That sin is bigger or worse than the one I committed. Therefore that person is a bigger sinner than I." Offenses are described as detached objects with their own distinct mass. They can be picked up and put down at will. The implied goal: don't pick up anything too heavy and you'll be OK. It's all up to you! The Law, then, is just a list of tables, delineating the offenses and how much they each weigh.
This loophole allows all kinds of nastiness to enter into our lives of faith. This is exactly where the, "Oh yes, we're all sinners BUT..." mindset comes from. That statement is inevitably followed by finger pointing at some person (or group of people) who are then ostracized from God's family by virtue of their terrible transgressions. We'd never be so crass as to claim we're sinless. We know God wouldn't like that. So we allow ourselves a little sin while reserving the right to condemn our neighbors for their much greater ones.
James says, "Nuh-uh". Sin isn't a detached object that can be weighed and measured. Sin is a transgression against a person...God and the neighbor whom God loves. Saying, "At least I didn't commit that sin" is the same as kicking your mom in the left shin and then saying, "At least I didn't kick you in the right one! Or slap you! Or pull your hair! Remember Jimmy pulled your hair last week? Don't you hate him worse?" This makes no sense. You hurt somebody. You violated the trust of that relationship. That's the point, not how you did it.
Personalizing the Law makes everything come crystal clear. We're not spiritual accountants, doing the books. We're in a living, breathing relationship with God and with our neighbors. We have to tend to that relationship every day. The Law tells us how to love God and how to care for the people whom God loves. He loves them so dearly that hurting even the least of them is the same as hurting him. Understanding this is far different than understanding the Law as a choice between big and little sins, trying to figure out what we can get away with and who did worse or better than somebody else. The latter way of thinking is self-centered, the former focused on caring for others. The latter way puts you in the position of judging sins and everyone who commits them. The former puts you in service to God and everyone around you. They're opposite ways of thinking and cannot co-exist.
We say glibly, almost as a matter of rote, "We're in relationship with God." It's an article of faith, one of those things that you say and then go, "Yeah, yeah, so let's get on to the important stuff." We need to stop right there. That IS the important stuff. It's a real relationship. Unless we start out seeing it as such we'll never understand the things we're trying to get on to. That all of us have heard (and some have said) things like, "My sin is little and theirs is bigger" only shows how easy it is to forget the most basic, important things as we rush to justify ourselves and our own prerogatives.
I wonder who we think we're fooling? You can almost see God standing there, waiting until our little speech runs down so he can tap us on the shoulder and say, "Pssst. I'm still here. Shall we talk about that shin-kicking incident now or do you want to justify it some more at the expense of your neighbor?" Any other response besides, "I'm sorry" and then starting to tend to that relationship more faithfully is only more foolishness.
I pray you have wisdom and that all the people of faith around you will as well.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
We'll begin with the text upon which the sermon was based, James 2: 1-17.
2 My brothers and sisters, believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ must not show favoritism. 2 Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in filthy old clothes also comes in. 3 If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, “Here’s a good seat for you,” but say to the poor man, “You stand there” or “Sit on the floor by my feet,” 4 have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?
5 Listen, my dear brothers and sisters: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him? 6 But you have dishonored the poor. Is it not the rich who are exploiting you? Are they not the ones who are dragging you into court? 7 Are they not the ones who are blaspheming the noble name of him to whom you belong?
8 If you really keep the royal law found in Scripture, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing right. 9 But if you show favoritism, you sin and are convicted by the law as lawbreakers. 10 For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it. 11 For he who said, “You shall not commit adultery,” also said, “You shall not murder.” If you do not commit adultery but do commit murder, you have become a lawbreaker.
12 Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, 13 because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment.
14 What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? 15 Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. 16 If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? 17 In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.
On Sunday we talked about the whole faith and works thing. We'll get to that another day. The other sermon I wanted to preach was on the paragraph from verses 8-13. James makes a bold claim: if you break one part of the Law you've broken it all. I've talked about similar things using the same commandment he cites, "Love your neighbor as yourself." But James takes it even further in verse 11 by pointing to the great Law-Giver. The same One who said one part of the Law also said the other. To go against his word in one way is the same as going against it in the other.
In one swoop James personalizes all of the Law and Scripture. This is a brilliant corrective to the bugaboo we've been talking about for the last couple weeks: objectifying (and thus depersonalizing and distancing) our faith.
As with sin two Sundays ago, as with faith last Sunday, we fall into the trap of thinking about offenses against the Law as things unto themselves. "I committed this sin but I did not commit that one. That sin is bigger or worse than the one I committed. Therefore that person is a bigger sinner than I." Offenses are described as detached objects with their own distinct mass. They can be picked up and put down at will. The implied goal: don't pick up anything too heavy and you'll be OK. It's all up to you! The Law, then, is just a list of tables, delineating the offenses and how much they each weigh.
This loophole allows all kinds of nastiness to enter into our lives of faith. This is exactly where the, "Oh yes, we're all sinners BUT..." mindset comes from. That statement is inevitably followed by finger pointing at some person (or group of people) who are then ostracized from God's family by virtue of their terrible transgressions. We'd never be so crass as to claim we're sinless. We know God wouldn't like that. So we allow ourselves a little sin while reserving the right to condemn our neighbors for their much greater ones.
James says, "Nuh-uh". Sin isn't a detached object that can be weighed and measured. Sin is a transgression against a person...God and the neighbor whom God loves. Saying, "At least I didn't commit that sin" is the same as kicking your mom in the left shin and then saying, "At least I didn't kick you in the right one! Or slap you! Or pull your hair! Remember Jimmy pulled your hair last week? Don't you hate him worse?" This makes no sense. You hurt somebody. You violated the trust of that relationship. That's the point, not how you did it.
Personalizing the Law makes everything come crystal clear. We're not spiritual accountants, doing the books. We're in a living, breathing relationship with God and with our neighbors. We have to tend to that relationship every day. The Law tells us how to love God and how to care for the people whom God loves. He loves them so dearly that hurting even the least of them is the same as hurting him. Understanding this is far different than understanding the Law as a choice between big and little sins, trying to figure out what we can get away with and who did worse or better than somebody else. The latter way of thinking is self-centered, the former focused on caring for others. The latter way puts you in the position of judging sins and everyone who commits them. The former puts you in service to God and everyone around you. They're opposite ways of thinking and cannot co-exist.
We say glibly, almost as a matter of rote, "We're in relationship with God." It's an article of faith, one of those things that you say and then go, "Yeah, yeah, so let's get on to the important stuff." We need to stop right there. That IS the important stuff. It's a real relationship. Unless we start out seeing it as such we'll never understand the things we're trying to get on to. That all of us have heard (and some have said) things like, "My sin is little and theirs is bigger" only shows how easy it is to forget the most basic, important things as we rush to justify ourselves and our own prerogatives.
I wonder who we think we're fooling? You can almost see God standing there, waiting until our little speech runs down so he can tap us on the shoulder and say, "Pssst. I'm still here. Shall we talk about that shin-kicking incident now or do you want to justify it some more at the expense of your neighbor?" Any other response besides, "I'm sorry" and then starting to tend to that relationship more faithfully is only more foolishness.
I pray you have wisdom and that all the people of faith around you will as well.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Reminder: St. John's Clean Up
Just a reminder that we've posted the clean-up list for St. Johns: upstairs, downstairs, outside. It's on the bulletin board in the fellowship hall. We've love it if everybody would stop by for an hour or so sometime between now and the 15th to help ready the church for our return on the 16th. Possible contributions include:
Fellowship Hall
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Fellowship Hall
- Vacuum before setting up tables
- Set up tables and chairs
- Dust
- Clean windows and windowsills
- Move furniture and vacuum
- Clean windows and windowsills
- Sweep and mop floor
- Clean doors
- Clean windows and windowsills
- Dust and organize cabinet
- Mop floor
- Oil pews
- Clean windows and windowsills
- Organize children's supplies, pens, hymnals
- Weed front shrubbery
- Weed window wells
- Clean outside of windows
- Sweep and clean steps and handrails
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Whatever Happened to Black and White?
Yesterday's sermon got a quick response from a reader outside our congregation. Distilled, it said this (more or less):
"I understand where you're coming from, but what happened to black and white, good and evil? I miss the days when God was about the rules and you followed them. I'm tired of having to think so hard about something that should be easy."
Hey, I empathize. You've just described my life in a nutshell: think about everything, be concerned about everyone, every day. After a while you just get tired!
I would also hasten to add that nothing has happened to good and evil. There's still a huge difference between the two. They haven't mixed, nor are they interchangeable. Say rather that we've learned not to trust our own perceptions of good and evil, our own ability to judge.
Back in the day when communities--particularly church communities--were homogeneous we didn't have to stretch our perception very far. Whatever looked normal (meaning "like us") was good. Anything that stuck out or threatened that normality was evil. Our communities are far more diverse now. "Normal" is a relative, and in some ways dangerous, term. With all the variety of people coming in and out of our lives now we can no longer depend on the old perceptions. Sometimes what's different (meaning "not like us") is good! That doesn't mean evil is good. It means good was bigger than we once understood when our world was smaller. Trying to go back to the older, simpler way not only denies the changes in our environment but shuts out people who need to hear God's message. That we cannot do.
The price of making sure we're not shutting people out is simple: we have to work harder. We need to listen, discern, study scripture, figure out how new stimuli and the word of God meet. As I just mentioned, this is a pain. It's often exhausting. It would be much easier to say, "Let's just not deal with this." In a way that's what "black and white" means: no thought, no change, no exceptions. Wishing for black and white is the same as wishing we didn't have to do so much spiritual work.
But if we do not do this work, who will? If we do not reach out, make ourselves open, accept the challenge of this new type of community then we'll find God's Spirit lacking among us. Nobody's going to do this work for us. No self-help book, no judge or TV talk show host, no old piece of advice from mom can bail us out of it. God has sent these things our way. We can't undo that. Our only choice is to do the work or quit. And if we quit, I assume God will find someone else--someone more faithful--to do it.
It's funny...every time we hear stories of saints dying for the cause, people in foreign lands being persecuted for the faith, people risking their lives to help others in need, we always wonder if we'd have the courage to do it. We imagine ourselves put in the spot of being the Hero. We ask if we could give up our life for God. Fear rises inside us, to be sure, but in our secret heart of hearts we'd like to imagine the answer is "yes, I would".
The thing is, very few of us are called to give up our lives in that particular way. Instead God gives us our daily life, things to enjoy, beautiful and enriching experiences. He also asks us to do a little work in the midst of these wonderful lives...exactly the work we're talking about. "As you go about your daily tasks," he says, "pay attention to your neighbor instead of dismissing them. Welcome them instead of turning them away. Make an effort to understand them and their perception of me so that your own perception of me can grow. Share with others this goodness I've given you so that more people can know it." None of that happens when we quit, when we paint the world black and white and decide who's in and who's out. How in the world could we imagine being heroes if we can't even do the simplest work of faith?
In the end, saying, "I think it's all black and white" is the same as saying, "I don't intend to spend any time thinking about anything or anyone else today. My judgment is the only thing I need." You can then hear the words of scripture pealing down upon you. "The greatest commandment is this: that you love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind and love your neighbor as yourself."
We haven't moved to a more nuanced view of the world because we're nice, nor mushy and wishy-washy, nor liberal. We've moved to a more nuanced view of the world because scripture calls us to do just that and in the end we trust scripture more than we trust our own opinions, perceptions, culture, or traditions. We don't move away from the Bible as we do so. We stand right in the heart of it.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
"I understand where you're coming from, but what happened to black and white, good and evil? I miss the days when God was about the rules and you followed them. I'm tired of having to think so hard about something that should be easy."
Hey, I empathize. You've just described my life in a nutshell: think about everything, be concerned about everyone, every day. After a while you just get tired!
I would also hasten to add that nothing has happened to good and evil. There's still a huge difference between the two. They haven't mixed, nor are they interchangeable. Say rather that we've learned not to trust our own perceptions of good and evil, our own ability to judge.
Back in the day when communities--particularly church communities--were homogeneous we didn't have to stretch our perception very far. Whatever looked normal (meaning "like us") was good. Anything that stuck out or threatened that normality was evil. Our communities are far more diverse now. "Normal" is a relative, and in some ways dangerous, term. With all the variety of people coming in and out of our lives now we can no longer depend on the old perceptions. Sometimes what's different (meaning "not like us") is good! That doesn't mean evil is good. It means good was bigger than we once understood when our world was smaller. Trying to go back to the older, simpler way not only denies the changes in our environment but shuts out people who need to hear God's message. That we cannot do.
The price of making sure we're not shutting people out is simple: we have to work harder. We need to listen, discern, study scripture, figure out how new stimuli and the word of God meet. As I just mentioned, this is a pain. It's often exhausting. It would be much easier to say, "Let's just not deal with this." In a way that's what "black and white" means: no thought, no change, no exceptions. Wishing for black and white is the same as wishing we didn't have to do so much spiritual work.
But if we do not do this work, who will? If we do not reach out, make ourselves open, accept the challenge of this new type of community then we'll find God's Spirit lacking among us. Nobody's going to do this work for us. No self-help book, no judge or TV talk show host, no old piece of advice from mom can bail us out of it. God has sent these things our way. We can't undo that. Our only choice is to do the work or quit. And if we quit, I assume God will find someone else--someone more faithful--to do it.
It's funny...every time we hear stories of saints dying for the cause, people in foreign lands being persecuted for the faith, people risking their lives to help others in need, we always wonder if we'd have the courage to do it. We imagine ourselves put in the spot of being the Hero. We ask if we could give up our life for God. Fear rises inside us, to be sure, but in our secret heart of hearts we'd like to imagine the answer is "yes, I would".
The thing is, very few of us are called to give up our lives in that particular way. Instead God gives us our daily life, things to enjoy, beautiful and enriching experiences. He also asks us to do a little work in the midst of these wonderful lives...exactly the work we're talking about. "As you go about your daily tasks," he says, "pay attention to your neighbor instead of dismissing them. Welcome them instead of turning them away. Make an effort to understand them and their perception of me so that your own perception of me can grow. Share with others this goodness I've given you so that more people can know it." None of that happens when we quit, when we paint the world black and white and decide who's in and who's out. How in the world could we imagine being heroes if we can't even do the simplest work of faith?
In the end, saying, "I think it's all black and white" is the same as saying, "I don't intend to spend any time thinking about anything or anyone else today. My judgment is the only thing I need." You can then hear the words of scripture pealing down upon you. "The greatest commandment is this: that you love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind and love your neighbor as yourself."
We haven't moved to a more nuanced view of the world because we're nice, nor mushy and wishy-washy, nor liberal. We've moved to a more nuanced view of the world because scripture calls us to do just that and in the end we trust scripture more than we trust our own opinions, perceptions, culture, or traditions. We don't move away from the Bible as we do so. We stand right in the heart of it.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Monday Morning Sermon: The Sin From Within
OK, it's Tuesday afternoon and not Monday morning, but you get the idea. This week's gospel came from Mark, Chapter 7:
Christians have tended to define sin as a "thing", an external entity. Dancing is a sin. Playing cards is a sin. Drinking, talking to a divorced woman, using the internet...the list goes on. Some infractions are greater, some are lesser, but all are objectified. The key to avoiding sin in this scenario is to stay away from the contaminating objects. Don't dance, avoid the computer, cross to the other side of the street when the divorced woman comes your way. As long as you don't touch the offensive material you will remain clean.
This definition is convenient for us in many ways. It's simple. It allows us to define ourselves as inherently not sinful. It allows us to paint the world black and white, sinful or good. It also allows us to judge others in a snap. That person dances. Those two are living together but aren't married. This guy is a communist. In an instant we can tell good people from bad, separate ourselves from the bad ones, and create a community convenient to us and acceptable to God.
Except that it's not acceptable to God.
The Pharisees employed just this definition of sin when they called Jesus' followers to task. "Why are your disciples eating with defiled hands?" Contamination was all around. Evil abounded. Why weren't the disciples engaging in the holy rituals which would push away the sin and keep them clean? They must be evil people, having let sin into their lives so easily!
Jesus replied that the only sin that mattered was the one the Pharisees themselves were engaging in: judging, condemning, pushing away God's people with their bigoted accusations. When you use the word of God to divide people from people, attacking those who are not you, you have heard it but it is far from your heart. True sin comes from within: the self-centered misuse of God's good gifts to promote greed, deceit, envy, arrogance, and folly. Sin isn't an external contaminate. The potential (and really, the reality) of sin is with us, inside us every day.
Put another way, every time we say, "They're the sinners!" we prove that we are the sinners.
Almost nothing in life is inherently "sinful". Things can be used to promote life, health, togetherness or they can be misused to advance selfishness, division, and death. The classic example is the very first. Confirmation students often ask me, "If God didn't want there to be evil, why did he put that tree in the garden? Didn't he create evil then?" The answer is no! There wasn't anything wrong with the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in itself. It was perfectly fine, sitting there and fulfilling its purpose. When Adam and Eve took the fruit and used it to replace God--attempting to become gods themselves--that's where the evil came in.
Dancing isn't bad. How, when, and why you dance can be good or bad. Alcohol can be good in some situations, bad in others. The internet works for good and ill. The list goes on. How you use something--not just your intention but how it affects the world and the people around you--determines how sinful or holy it is. This is true from the lowliest pebble on the ground to the word of God itself, as we see in this passage. Good things used bad ways (like God's word used to divide and hurt) become bad. "Bad" things used good ways (like our fermented beverages at Theology on Tap) become good.
This answers a whole host of thorny questions. How can we offer a beer to a 44 year old but tell the 14 year old not to do that? Is beer bad or good? Aren't you being hypocritical? No...in the first situation (absent mitigating factors) it's fine. In the second it's harmful. Granted it's hard to imagine using some things in a helpful manner no matter what the environment. Illegal drugs come to mind. In those cases a shorthand, blanket "no" is probably acceptable. But the "no" comes from having examined all the possibilities and saying, "I don't see how this helps," not from looking at a substance and saying, "Bad! Bad thing! Which of you sinners touched this?"
Understanding this gospel forces us to consider people and situations instead of objectifying the world and making isolated, snap judgments about everyone and everything. We're not free to point fingers at our neighbor. We may decide that what they did was wrong but we have to be able to show how and why based on the negativity it brought into the world and not just our own culture, tradition, or opinion. Sometimes we have to admit that what they did was right or helpful, at least in their case. Either way the question of sin brings us closer to understanding our fellow human beings instead of driving us away from each other.
We're also called upon to examine our own sins more thoroughly, which includes admitting that we actually engage in them every day. Eating a banana is not a sin. Buying a banana that was picked by a third-world worker earning a starvation-level wage forced to live in a company camp where the only outlets are drug use and the prostitution of young women may be a sin. How do we know? Part of it is being more aware of the things we do. But the other part is admitting we don't know and can't catch every sin...that we commit plenty without intention. When we realize this--that we may have committed six sins just starting our car and driving to work today--we begin to have more empathy for our fellow sinners instead of of condemning them offhand. We also begin to realize the magnitude and importance of God's love for us, his patience, his forgiveness, and how miraculous it is that he claims us and saves us despite all of this.
That's a lesson worth learning.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
The Pharisees and some of the teachers of the law who had come from Jerusalem gathered around Jesus 2 and saw some of his disciples eating food with hands that were defiled, that is, unwashed. 3 (The Pharisees and all the Jews do not eat unless they give their hands a ceremonial washing, holding to the tradition of the elders. 4 When they come from the marketplace they do not eat unless they wash. And they observe many other traditions, such as the washing of cups, pitchers and kettles.)The most interesting part of this text is the definition Jesus provides for sin. It turns our usual way of thinking on its ear.
5 So the Pharisees and teachers of the law asked Jesus, “Why don’t your disciples live according to the tradition of the elders instead of eating their food with defiled hands?”
6 He replied, “Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as it is written:
“‘These people honor me with their lips,
but their hearts are far from me.
7 They worship me in vain;
their teachings are merely human rules.’
8 You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to human traditions.”
14 Again Jesus called the crowd to him and said, “Listen to me, everyone, and understand this. 15 Nothing outside a person can defile them by going into them. Rather, it is what comes out of a person that defiles them.”
21 For it is from within, out of a person’s heart, that evil thoughts come—sexual immorality, theft, murder, 22 adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. 23 All these evils come from inside and defile a person.”
Christians have tended to define sin as a "thing", an external entity. Dancing is a sin. Playing cards is a sin. Drinking, talking to a divorced woman, using the internet...the list goes on. Some infractions are greater, some are lesser, but all are objectified. The key to avoiding sin in this scenario is to stay away from the contaminating objects. Don't dance, avoid the computer, cross to the other side of the street when the divorced woman comes your way. As long as you don't touch the offensive material you will remain clean.
This definition is convenient for us in many ways. It's simple. It allows us to define ourselves as inherently not sinful. It allows us to paint the world black and white, sinful or good. It also allows us to judge others in a snap. That person dances. Those two are living together but aren't married. This guy is a communist. In an instant we can tell good people from bad, separate ourselves from the bad ones, and create a community convenient to us and acceptable to God.
Except that it's not acceptable to God.
The Pharisees employed just this definition of sin when they called Jesus' followers to task. "Why are your disciples eating with defiled hands?" Contamination was all around. Evil abounded. Why weren't the disciples engaging in the holy rituals which would push away the sin and keep them clean? They must be evil people, having let sin into their lives so easily!
Jesus replied that the only sin that mattered was the one the Pharisees themselves were engaging in: judging, condemning, pushing away God's people with their bigoted accusations. When you use the word of God to divide people from people, attacking those who are not you, you have heard it but it is far from your heart. True sin comes from within: the self-centered misuse of God's good gifts to promote greed, deceit, envy, arrogance, and folly. Sin isn't an external contaminate. The potential (and really, the reality) of sin is with us, inside us every day.
Put another way, every time we say, "They're the sinners!" we prove that we are the sinners.
Almost nothing in life is inherently "sinful". Things can be used to promote life, health, togetherness or they can be misused to advance selfishness, division, and death. The classic example is the very first. Confirmation students often ask me, "If God didn't want there to be evil, why did he put that tree in the garden? Didn't he create evil then?" The answer is no! There wasn't anything wrong with the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in itself. It was perfectly fine, sitting there and fulfilling its purpose. When Adam and Eve took the fruit and used it to replace God--attempting to become gods themselves--that's where the evil came in.
Dancing isn't bad. How, when, and why you dance can be good or bad. Alcohol can be good in some situations, bad in others. The internet works for good and ill. The list goes on. How you use something--not just your intention but how it affects the world and the people around you--determines how sinful or holy it is. This is true from the lowliest pebble on the ground to the word of God itself, as we see in this passage. Good things used bad ways (like God's word used to divide and hurt) become bad. "Bad" things used good ways (like our fermented beverages at Theology on Tap) become good.
This answers a whole host of thorny questions. How can we offer a beer to a 44 year old but tell the 14 year old not to do that? Is beer bad or good? Aren't you being hypocritical? No...in the first situation (absent mitigating factors) it's fine. In the second it's harmful. Granted it's hard to imagine using some things in a helpful manner no matter what the environment. Illegal drugs come to mind. In those cases a shorthand, blanket "no" is probably acceptable. But the "no" comes from having examined all the possibilities and saying, "I don't see how this helps," not from looking at a substance and saying, "Bad! Bad thing! Which of you sinners touched this?"
Understanding this gospel forces us to consider people and situations instead of objectifying the world and making isolated, snap judgments about everyone and everything. We're not free to point fingers at our neighbor. We may decide that what they did was wrong but we have to be able to show how and why based on the negativity it brought into the world and not just our own culture, tradition, or opinion. Sometimes we have to admit that what they did was right or helpful, at least in their case. Either way the question of sin brings us closer to understanding our fellow human beings instead of driving us away from each other.
We're also called upon to examine our own sins more thoroughly, which includes admitting that we actually engage in them every day. Eating a banana is not a sin. Buying a banana that was picked by a third-world worker earning a starvation-level wage forced to live in a company camp where the only outlets are drug use and the prostitution of young women may be a sin. How do we know? Part of it is being more aware of the things we do. But the other part is admitting we don't know and can't catch every sin...that we commit plenty without intention. When we realize this--that we may have committed six sins just starting our car and driving to work today--we begin to have more empathy for our fellow sinners instead of of condemning them offhand. We also begin to realize the magnitude and importance of God's love for us, his patience, his forgiveness, and how miraculous it is that he claims us and saves us despite all of this.
That's a lesson worth learning.
--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)
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