Sunday, November 19, 2006

Look at What We've Done!

This sermon was preached at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on November 19, 2006

1 Samuel 1:4-20
1 Samuel 2:1-10
Hebrews 10:11-14; 19-25
Mark 13:1-8

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

I enjoy studying the book of Hebrews. To me, it’s like the Cliff Notes version of Old Testament events, people, and theology. Because of its probable roots, this isn’t surprising. Written in the style of the Rabbinical Midrash, a style of theological commentary developed by Rabbis; Hebrews was probably written as a theological bridge for Jewish Christians. Many first and second century Jewish Christians were in difficult religious and social situations. Many were tempted, even threatened, to return to temple worship. So Hebrews was probably written for a group of Jewish Christians to bolster their faith.[1] And then it became more widely circulated among the churches from Palestine through Asia to Rome. There is nothing in the text that says that the intended readers had to be Jewish Christians, but because of the writing style and the people lifted up in the text it is very possible. Regardless, this does not lessen the usefulness of Hebrews to the universal church.

The first half of our reading from Hebrews compares the sacrifices of the temple Priests and that of Jesus the Christ. The priests of the Temple would stand day after day offering the same sacrifices again and again on behalf of the people. Our reading from Hebrews notes these sacrifices are found lacking compared to the finality of Christ’s sacrifice. As mentioned in chapter 10 verses 12 and 14, Christ’s work is a single sacrifice, a single offering for all time. The constant offerings made by the priests could not compare. It wasn’t that the Priest’s offerings were bad; it’s just that the Priest’s many daily offerings could never accomplish what Christ’s single offering could.

As most of you know before entering seminary, I worked in higher education at a small community college in rural Southeast Colorado. Every year began with excitement as the new crop of first year students came to the college. Many were fresh out of high school, some were entering college after some years of working at home, and still others were gearing up for the next stage in their careers. The week before classes began with a fanfare of welcomes and presentations, picnics and entertainment, placement testing and registration. It was a time of expectation and anticipation; a time to say good bye to old ways and to become immersed in academe. It was a time to meet new people and be exposed to new ideas. And for many, this was happening in a new place.

As a part of New Student Orientation, the State of Colorado required all incoming students to receive information about alcohol abuse and communicable diseases. Colorado determined that these issues are a concern for new students, so all colleges were required to provide information. Our college used presenters supplemented with brochures and handouts. I was in charge of developing these presentations. Every year I would review the latest information, update handouts, order new pamphlets, arrange for speakers, and check out new video tapes.

And every year, people abused alcohol. Every year, people got communicable diseases. I could not prevent this. I was wholly unable to prevent this. Yet I arranged the presentations as required. I was glad to do it too; I knew that what I did was important for the life of the community.

In a sense, I was making an offering like the Priests. The Priests made offerings to purify the People of Israel. I made an offering of information to educate the new students. The Priests knew they would make the offerings again the next day because one, they were directed to in the Law, and two, because the transgressions of the community would continue. Their work was never the last word in sanctification of the people so they continued the offerings. I knew I would made my offering because one, I was directed to in the law and two, because I knew that transgressions of the community would continue. As new students came through our doors, there were always more people who needed the information we provided. So in a way, this is not so different from the sacrifices made by the priests in Old Testament times.

These sacrifices were made by the priests over and over again. Their sacrifices were offered to make amends between the community and the Lord. The sacrifices they made were on behalf of the community, the priests themselves, and sins that were not atoned for by the other sacrifices. From the very beginning, the sacrifices were imperfect; they had to be made over and over again.

This is the point of the first part of our reading from Hebrews 10; whatever we do, it can never be enough to fill the gulf between humanity and the Almighty. Offerings were made for generations and if it were not for the destruction of the temple they still would be made today.

But Hebrews also reminds us of the ultimate sacrifice, the one sacrifice made now and forever on our behalf, a single sacrifice; a single offering; for all time. God comes to earth in Jesus the Christ, fully human and fully divine, and God is offered as a sacrifice for those who are set aside. There is nothing else we can do, it is done. There is no thing more we can offer for atonement of sin. The Lamb of God is the only perfect and unblemished sacrifice.

Often, small children will cry out to their parents, “come and look at what I’ve done!” In most children there is a pride and a joy that come with achievement. It is wanting to share that pride and joy that offers the invitation to look at what I’ve done... usually. It isn’t even always the case that the cry is made by children. Our reading from Mark points out that adults even like to cry out “look at what we’ve done!”

By this time in Mark’s gospel, Jesus has made his triumphal entrance into Jerusalem. Jesus has entered Jerusalem on a colt, not a war horse, disappointing those who are looking for Jesus to be a political messiah. He has cleansed the temple of the money changers, but he has declared it legal to pay taxes to Caesar. He has taught in parables and he has spoken plainly. He has worshipped with his disciples and now he and his disciples leave worship in the temple. So now, as we barrel head long into the season of Advent and move toward the season of Jesus’ birth, we read of our Lord moving precariously through the week of the Passion.

And as Jesus comes out of the temple with his disciples, one of them says to Jesus, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” It is as if the unnamed disciple is saying, “Look at the great stones, look at the great buildings, behold the glory, look at what our ancestors have done!” After the time they spent together, after everything they have shared, someone says, “Hey, look at what we’ve done did for God, isn’t it wonderful.” Jesus’ response is a short, sharp shock: “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” I don’t think Jesus intends to be rude to the disciple, but the response is direct and matter of fact. Jesus tells him that what their ancestors so wonderfully created will one day be dust.

Still the closest of Jesus’ disciples want more information, the facts, the inside scoop. They want to know how to recognize when the time comes; they want to know so they can react when it happens. Given the dire prediction Jesus has just given them, it might be presumptuous to ask, but that doesn’t mean it’s not good thinking.

Jesus does not give an answer they expect. I suspect they are asking for a date and time. Instead he warns them, beware that no one leads you astray. They are warned there are some who will say “I am he.”

When this phrase, “I am he,” is used in the Old Testament, it is the invocation of the Lord’s name. The “he” Jesus refers to is the Lord our God. To rephrase, there are some who will come to earth and claim to be the messiah. The ones who make this claim will lead the people astray. There will be war, and rumors of war, nation will rise against nation, kingdom against kingdom, and principality against principality. There will be earthquakes, hunger, famine, and this is the beginning. This is the beginning. This is the work that has to be done, as scripture says, it is necessary.

If this had been my question, I would not have been happy with the answer. I would be looking for something more specific. And if this is the beginning, the events of the end would be even more frightening. Jesus knew that there was nothing that the disciples could do with or about these signs. Nothing they did would enable them to divine these signs in the events of the next week or the next two thousand years.

But through his earthly ministry, Jesus made clear to them what he wants. He wants them to be apostles, followers, envoys, messengers. He wants them to share their experience of ministry together with him and after he leaves. He wants them to enjoy the water, and the bread, and the wine, and know that this is what is important, being in community with the triune God and with one another. They are emissaries and they are to share this experience with the world.

And this is exactly what the Lord Jesus wants for us. He wants us to continue being his followers, envoys, and messengers. He wants us to share the experience of ministry in his name, in his power, on behalf of those in need. He wants us to enjoy the waters of our baptism and be nourished by the plate and cup of the table. He wants us to enjoy the eternal community begun in the persons of the triune God. He wants us serve one another in his name with his power as followers, envoys, and messengers.

Yes, there is work to do and Jesus compares the work we begin with birth pangs. But the term “birth pangs” does not just refer to the pain of child birth. Jesus is also referring to the work involved in giving birth—the physical exertion, not just the pain.[2] And while the work of bringing a child into the world is strenuous and painful, it is just the beginning. After giving birth, there is much to be done.

This is a scary time, friends. Watching the news is enough to sow the seeds of an ulcer. There is war and rumor of war. There are those who claim they do the will of God, whether by holy war or some other things. We are told not to be alarmed because this is necessary. Still, I am familiar with the Kingston Trio song lyric, “It takes a worried man to sing a worried song.”[3]

This is why we need to go back to the second half of our reading from Hebrews. This later half of the reading then tells us to have confidence. We are to hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering because he who has promised, Jesus Christ, is faithful. We are to have confidence to approach the throne of grace through the sacrifice of Jesus, the single sacrifice; the single offering; made for all time. Just like the Priests of the temple, our offerings will never be enough. This is why we need the grace and peace of Jesus Christ. This is why Christ offers his grace. This is why we must accept it and live in it.

When we say look at what we’ve done, we are in peril. Just like the temple, what we make will become dust. It is the nature of our offerings; they will pass through the sands of time. But we are called to offer ourselves to serve as conduits, for the glory of God through the power of God. When we give of ourselves to others through the name and the power of Jesus Christ, we receive and give the gift that lasts. Let us be followers, envoys, and messengers of the Lord our God, receiving and giving in his power and name.

[1] Hebrews introductory notes, New Interpreter’s Study Bible, Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 2003.
[2] Kittle, Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Volume IX.
[3] Guard, David and Glazer, Tom, Worried Man, A. The Kingston Trio, Capitol single 4271, 1959.

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