Sunday, July 29, 2007

Telling God What To Do, Part II

Hosea 1:2-10
Psalm 85
Colossians 2:6-15
Luke 11:1-15

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

There’s an old saying: there’s no such thing as a stupid question. But did you know that this question has a corollary: there’s no such thing as a stupid question, but there are plenty of stupid answers. Last week I ended with a simple question, how should we pray? I have heard some pretty stupid answers to this question. And if pressed, I am sure that I have given my share of pretty stupid answers to it too.

This question, how should we pray, is as old as humanity. From the moment we sensed, from the moment we knew there was a presence more powerful than us prayer of one form or another has been a part of life. Sometimes the answer has involved blood sacrifice—both animal and human, sometimes a sacrifice of praise. Sometimes it has involved memorized prayer recited by rote, sometimes spontaneous prayer lifted in the moment. Sometimes it is in the language of the priests, sometimes in the language of the people, and sometimes in the language of the angels. This is such a good question, it was asked by Jesus’ disciples.

In ancient Judea, it was common for Rabbis to teach their disciples how to pray. Based on what the unnamed disciple requested, John must have taught his disciples to pray a certain way. So if John can teach his disciples to pray, surely Jesus could teach his disciples to pray too. Teaching his disciples to pray, Jesus gives us five simple petitions:

“Hallowed be,” or “make holy the name of the Father.”

“The Father’s Kingdom come.”

“Give us the bread we need for today”. Though this could also be translated “Give us the bread we need for tomorrow.”

“Forgive our sins, for we forgive all who are indebted to us.”

And “Do not bring us into sin’s temptation.” Another way to say this is “do not bring us to a time of trial or testing.”

That’s it, five little petitions. Two or three of them (depending on how you translate the petition for bread) deal with the future, the end times when God’s kingdom comes.

In this time God’s name will be sanctified throughout the cosmos. In a time when people of the earth prayed to a Parthenon of gods, we pray that the name of the Lord alone be made holy. In a time when people put so much before the praise and worship of the one true God, whether it be nationalism, or economics, or some other thing, we are called to pray for a time when God’s name alone stands before us holy and as pure as light.

We pray the Father’s kingdom come. This part is a little tough, not everyone has good fathers, shadowing the view of a heavenly Father. When appearing before the Presbytery of Arkansas’ Committee on Preparation for Ministry I called the first person of the Trinity “Father” much to the chagrin of some of the members. They asked me if I thought it was appropriate to use paternal images in a world where not all fathers are present, much less good.

I know people who do not have good fathers, so imagining God as a good father is difficult for some. This leaves two choices; one is to find another name for “God the Father.” Any of you who followed last year’s General Assembly in Birmingham know the donnybrook that followed the introduction and reception of the report on this very issue. The report wasn’t even accepted, it was just received, and the fallout hasn’t ended yet. So while other images of the first person of the Trinity have value and validity, it is dangerous ground to tread, the Presbyterian equivalent of theological quicksand.

The other choice, and to me a more productive choice, is to rehabilitate the image of fatherhood through God’s fatherly presence. We have to learn that in prayer “we must ask for a response and expect that God will respond in a way above and beyond our human experiences with one another.”[1] We have to learn that God is a father who is better than our fathers have been and could ever be. In this turn we are called to be the children of God, children who follow our heavenly father in ways we could never follow our earthly fathers.

In one part of Jesus’ explanation he notes that if we were parents of a child asking for a gift, we would give good gifts. We would never give a snake instead of a fish or a scorpion instead of an egg. Even though we are evil, we know better than that. This whole “evil” word takes a beating, we are bound to hope and pray something like “yeah, we have a sinful nature, but do you have to say evil?” There is some conjecture that Jesus was exaggerating to make a point—evil is a harsh word and he intended to make a sharp comparison. Then again, compared to the Good Father, our Father in Heaven, we cannot be “good.”

We should note that the neighbor did not respond to the friend in need out of the goodness of his heart, he responded to his neighbor’s shameless persistence and out of what he feared his other neighbors would think of him if he had denied hospitality to another. He acted out of obligation, not goodness, so imagine the action of the Lord our God who acts out of perfect loving goodness.

In God’s kingdom is all of the bread we will need for tomorrow, in God’s coming kingdom we will never be hungry again. Still we must remember that the bread Jesus refers to is not some frilly loaf from a specialty baker. It’s more like a flatbread pita or tortilla than a fancy foccacia. No sundried tomato basil dill herb concoction. But with this simple bread, we will never be hungry again.

The other three petitions (again, depending on how you translate the petition for bread) deal with our most basic daily needs, bread, forgiveness, and (in a word) protection.

Bread was the most basic food made by the ancient Israelites. Asking for daily bread harkens us back to the days of the exodus when God provided the daily bread of manna for the nation. Every day, the people were told to gather as much as they needed, and no more, because they were to depend upon the Lord for their daily bread. The only exception to this was the day before the Sabbath when they were to gather two days worth, bread both for today and for tomorrow, since no work was to be done on the Sabbath. Everything that’s old is new again when God again provides daily bread for the people.

Forgiveness is, in its own way, bread for the soul, without it we cannot live. What’s unusual about this petition is that we ask for forgiveness “for we forgive all being indebted to us.” This looks like we ask God to give us what we have all ready given others. This would be true if we assumed we could fully forgive another in the sinful world we live in, but we know this is impossible. This is only possible in God’s kingdom, where we share in God’s good grace and receive God’s good gifts, including forgiveness.

Finally we pray not to be lead into temptation. On the way to the kingdom, the ancient Jews faced many trials and temptations, many of them coming from the many gods (that with a lower case “g”) of the ancient world. Temptations on the road to the kingdom distract us from the true goal of our lives in the Lord, and so we pray not to be distracted.

We look to the future of God’s kingdom while we live in the world today. Really there is nothing terribly complicated about this prayer. It’s a prayer for today and a prayer for tomorrow. A prayer for now, and prayer for what is not yet.

This can be a difficult prayer though.

We are called to pray “Our Father in heaven,” but fail to embrace all people as his children.

We are called to pray, “Your kingdom come,” without working for the kingdom on earth.

We are called to pray for our daily bread but do not recognize it as God’s good gift to the world.

We are called to pray for forgiveness for ourselves, but we fail to offer pardon to others.

We plead not to be led by God into times of trial, but walk willingly into temptations we find on our own.

We tend to honor God with our lips, but fail to honor God with our lives.[2]

We pray as we are taught, but with this prayer we are called to a way of life we often do not live up to. This kingdom of heaven, far from the condition we live in on any kind of permanence, is one still that we can live in for moments at a time.

I was talking on the phone with Rev. Lieu Smith[3] on Thursday and he was taking about working at the Loaves and Fishes Food Bank the previous day. He told me that on Wednesday, a fifty-one families came into the food bank seeking assistance. Fifty-one families, somewhere in the neighborhood of two-hundred to two-hundred-and-fifty people were served that day. Lieu estimated they distributed 2,000 pounds of canned food and another 4,000 pounds of commodities. Three tons of food left the food bank that day.

Lieu also told me that about 100 backpacks, almost 30% of the inventory left the food bank in the hands of children that day. The head of the food bank told Lieu she wished “the Presbyterians had been on hand to see the smiles on the faces of the children as they received their backpacks and school supplies.”

When we pray for the kingdom to come, we pray with an eye to when Jesus comes again. In the meantime, we are called to act in a way as if the kingdom has come. Doing this, we walk in the footsteps of Jesus in the way that he walked the earth. This is like lightening striking. It doesn’t last long, it happens in the blink of an eye. But when it happens, it comes with a thunder that announces its arrival. And the place where the lightening strikes is never quite the same.

When through the grace and bounty of the Lord we supply three-hundred-and-forty back packs of school supplies, we participate in the coming of the kingdom. We donated over a quarter-ton of goods to the inbreaking of the kingdom of heaven. Every smile on every child’s face, every bit of learning helped along by this effort, every dollar left in the pocket of an impoverished parent not spent on school supplies is a bolt of lightening striking from the kingdom of God for the kingdom of God. And the rumble of its thunder will be heard here in Berryville and in the kingdom for ages to come.

In the end, Luke gives us reassurance of God’s faithful nature. We are told to ask and it will be given; we are told to seek and we will find; we are told to knock and it will be opened, but the prayer makes it clear that we must ask and seek and knock in obedience to the five petitions. This is what Jesus tells us to pray.

So here we are again, we are telling God what to do. Being faithful servants of the one true Lord requires we pray. We are to pray in reverence and in love to a Father who loves us first. We are called to pray for our daily needs and for the coming of the kingdom. So when we pray, when we pray in accord with the Lord’s Prayer are we really telling God what to do? In a way we are, but when we are in accord with the Lord, we are praying in obedience to what the Lord wants for us for today and forever. Let God tell us what to do, and let us pray that God may do it through us.

There are no stupid questions. And I pray, by the grace of God, this isn’t a stupid answer.

[1] Douglas Strome, Joy, “Living by the Word, Prayer power,” Christian Century. vol 124, no 14, July 10,2007, page 19.
[2] This section is based on a Prayer of Confession found in Homiletics Magazine, online version, http://homileticsonline.com/subscribe.printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=93000008 accessed June 11, 2007
[3] Lieu is the Pastor of the Community of Christ church in Berryville, Arkansas and very active in the Berryville Ministerial Alliance and the Loaves and Fishes Food Bank of the Ozarks. This information was relayed in a phone conversation on Thursday July 26, 2007.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Telling God What To Do

This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the 16th Sunday of Ordinary Time, July 22, 2007.

Amos 8:1-12
Psalm 52
Colossians 1:15-28
Luke 10:38-42
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

Years ago, at the Mount Comfort Presbyterian Church, an elder[1] was filling the pulpit for the regular pastor when he was on vacation. This was the children’s sermon:

He told a story of a group of children who lived by the sea in times long ago. They were finishing school for the year and if the weather was good, they were promised by their teacher that they would go to the beach at the cove for a picnic. All of the children had hoped and prayed for good weather so that they might have their picnic, but the weather that day was most foul; the rain fell in sheets, lightning lit up the cloud darkened skies, and thunder rumbled across the county. It was hardly a day for a picnic. All of the children were disappointed. Several threw tantrums that God and teacher were not able to give them their picnic.

But unbeknownst to anyone…a ship of pirates was off of the coast and had planned to come ashore and pillage the town that very day, but the severity of the storms forced them to change their plans and they never returned to that cove. And because the children’s prayers were not answered, they were able to live happily ever after.

You notice I never said it was a good children’s sermon.

As the story was told, its moral is that when we pray, we should not pray for specific things because God knows what is best. We should just pray God’s will be done and go on with the kingdom way.

I bring this up because the lesson of this children’s sermon, “while sometimes we tell God what to do—God knows what is better,” does pertain to our reading from Luke.

Jesus comes to a village where a woman named Martha opens her home to Jesus, and presumably his apostles since they traveled together. That’s right; suddenly there are thirteen fresh faces for dinner. Old TV shows and first marriages are filled with horror stories of inviting the boss home for dinner. This horror really must have been amplified when you invite the Lord and his twelve apostles home. Especially if it’s just you and your sister doing the cooking, cleaning, serving, and so on, and so on.

Martha was driven to distraction by all of the tasks required to prepare such a large dinner. Imagine the bread to be baked, the meat to be prepared—from slaughter to serving at that. Is there enough wine and cheese and fruit for such a large group of men, men who are hungry from their long travels.

So where’s her sister Mary? She is sitting at the feet of the Lord, listening, entranced by the word and wisdom that flows from his lips like the sweetest clover honey.

This is when Martha snaps “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?” She’s asking the honored guest if he cares whether or not Mary leaves her in a lurch, shirking her responsibilities as a hostess. Never mind the scandal that any woman would be sitting at the feet of a man, much less her sister, the co-hostess. Mary has taken the place of a man and a disciple instead of taking care of her real duties.

Martha has had it up to here and exclaims, “Lord, tell her then to help me.”

Lord, I pray tell her to help me.

Lord, I pray you make the weather right for our picnic.

Is this so different from how we pray?

Lord, we pray for rain in drought stricken places.

Lord, we pray for dryness in the floods.

Lord we pray for good crops.

Lord we pray for high prices to sell the crops.

Lord we pray for reasonable prices to feed the children.

Lord we pray for the Razorbacks.

Lord, we pray for health.

Lord, we pray for long life.

Lord, we pray for wealth.

Lord we pray so—and—so gets what’s coming to him.

Lord, we pray for comfort.

Like in the children’s sermon, often when we pray, we’re telling God what to do and how to do it. But in this case it’s a little different. Martha is upset and in a fit she asks the Lord if he cares and then tells God what to do, in his native tongue. Now that takes chutzpah. I imagine Martha is fit to be tied, with steam coming out of her ears and a rising tide of red to her face as rage boils within her. She and her family’s hospitality are on the line, there are many tasks to be done, while Mary is basking in the glow of their guest instead of doing what she’s supposed to be doing. “Lord, Tell my lousy, lazy sister to get up off of her tail and come and help me.”

The Lord hears and sees what is going on and he tells her, “Martha, Martha,” yes, Jesus doubles this up for emphasis, “you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part which will not be taken away from her.” Jesus isn’t especially saying, “don’t worry, by happy,” but he is telling her to lighten up, for just a moment. He is not telling her that what she is doing is bad, or unimportant, or wrong but he is saying that what Mary is doing is better and it will never be taken from her. And he does this with the most gentle of reproaches, “you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.”

In chemistry there’s a term, entropy. One way to explain entropy is to say that “nature leans toward disorder.”[2] My high school chemistry teacher described entropy with this illustration: If you take a jigsaw puzzle, one that has been put together, and sweep it off the table, it’s going to fall apart. Disorder. Likewise, if you take a puzzle box, and shake it up, when you open it you won’t get a picture of a bunny in the snow. Again, disorder.

Nature leans toward disorder. It is said that the vast majority of household dust is little pieces of skin cells that slough off of the inhabitants, both human and animal.[3] Disorder. The other major component is environmental, coming from soil and pollution. More disorder. When you look at a compost heap, you will see how grass clippings, leaves, and other organic things can break down and reform into something wonderful that supports life. Without this disorder, fertilizer for gardens and flower beds would have to come from more unnatural sources. Life springing from disorder.

Martha is cleaning and preparing and putting things in order for the Lord and his companions. There is so much to do that she is flustered. She is so flustered that she becomes frustrated that her sister is just sitting there. But Martha’s preparations will inevitably pass. The house will get dirty again. Martha’s work, as wonderful and glorious as it is in the kingdom of God, will pass. It will fade. It will have to be done again, and again, and again. The entropy of life will overtake the preparations for the meal. In this way, her work will be lost in the sands of time.

Mary on the other hand rests at the feet of the Lord. There she hears his teachings and gains wisdom, she rests in the love of the outstretched arms of the everlasting God, and these things will never be taken from her.

When we pray for picnics and rain and sun and crops and wealth and health and long life and comfort we pray for good things. But these things pass. These pass as dust passes on to more dust. We pray for things that will leave us, if for no other reason than by the ravages of time.

Mary on the other hand has chosen a better way, the way of discipleship, the way of the Word and the presence of God, the way of wisdom, the way of discernment. Mary learns these lessons at the feet of the anointed one, Jesus the Christ. Martha is worked up about the trappings of the world, while Mary is enthralled by the word of the Lord.

The consequences of the dishonor of her actions in polite society be cast aside, Mary seeks something that is broader and deeper than dinner; she is fed by the Lord.

The reason I mention this, while Martha is telling Jesus what to do, Mary rests in his presence, Mary is listening. She is finding out from Jesus what he wants us to do.

Four weeks ago, we heard the story of Jesus crossing the Sea of Galilee to the Gentile side where he met the Gerasene Demoniac. At the end of this story, the man, no longer demon infested, asked to follow Jesus, but Jesus told him to go home and declare how much God has done for him.[4]

The following week, we read of three would-be followers of our Lord. The first says he will follow, but Jesus warns if he does he will have no place to rest his head.[5] The next is beckoned by Jesus to follow, but first this man wishes to bury his father. He is told that the dead should bury the dead.[6] The last says he will follow Jesus, but first he wants to bid his family farewell. Jesus tells him to look forward, not back.[7] Scripture does not tell us whether any of these three joined the Lord or not, but in Vegas, I would have bet against them.

Two weeks ago was the tale of the sending of the seventy. They went ahead of Jesus to where he will visit and laid the ground work for the kingdom by words and signs. Then they returned to report the joy and the glory. There Jesus reminds them “do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”[8] They did as the Lord asked, and then were given the good news of where their joy and their salvation lie.

Last week was the story of Jesus and the lawyer. When the lawyer tells Jesus that the good neighbor is one who shows mercy he is told to “Go and do likewise.”[9] As for whether he does or not we will never know.

Over these past five weeks we have been shown different models of discipleship, different ways of confessing the faith and showing present witness to God’s grace in Jesus Christ. Some are examples of great encouragement, like the former Gerasene Demoniac and the Seventy. Others leave us to wonder, like the three men or the lawyer. In Martha and Mary we are shown two examples of good disciples, but one whose discipleship is better than the other’s.

But here’s the trick, here’s the sticky wicket. Martha was behaving like a real “Type A” personality. She is the kind of person who wants to get things done, and in this case do them for the Lord. But she hadn’t paused to find out if what she was doing was what the Lord wanted her to do.

We may think we know what is best for us, but only in sitting at the feet of Jesus will we ever be able to learn what is truly important.

Lord we pray for wisdom.

Lord we pray for discernment.

Lord we pray for your gifts.

Lord, we pray for peace.

Lord, we pray for mercy.

Lord, we pray for grace.

Through these things we learn what God wants from us.

So, how should we pray?

That will have to wait until next week…

[1] Dr. Steve Wilson, may he rest in peace.
[2] I learned this in high school chemistry nearly thirty years ago. Dang that makes me feel older.
[3] Dust, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dust, accessed July 21, 2007.
[4] Luke 8:39
[5] Luke 9:57-58
[6] Luke 9:59-60
[7] Luke 9:61-62
[8] Luke 10:1-27
[9] Luke 10:37

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Visions and Revisions

This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the 15th Sunday of Ordinary Time, July 15, 2007.

Amos 7:7-17
Psalm 82
Colossians 1:1-14
Luke 10:25-37

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

The other night, Marie Jackson[1] told this story:

She, Austin and the kids were going from Mississippi to Oklahoma to visit family. It was the mid 1960’s and the boys were still quite young. Well, it was about noonish when they hit Little Rock and the kids were hungry. Austin and Marie didn’t want to pull off the highway in Little Rock, so Marie promised the boys that they would get some lunch as soon as they got past the city. Well, being the mid 60’s there wasn’t one or six fast food places at every exit, so they ended up traveling quite a way before finding a little diner. They got out of the car, and I bet the boys were cheering as they went to the door. By now, it’s a little after one in the afternoon, they go into the diner and Marie asks if they are still serving lunch. The black woman behind the counter says “Yes, take a seat.”

Today we read Luke’s account of “Jesus and the Lawyer.” This is also called “The Injured Traveler,” but usually it’s called “The Good Samaritan.” This story has been told so often by so many that the term “Good Samaritan” is known by people who have never seen a bible. People who hear this story are dared to imagine that in the light of a society that doesn’t care for the injured, the sick, and the poor; they are called to be caring and generous toward a stranger. But this misses the point of the story.

One of the common ways to understand the parables is to try to decipher the code, figuring out who God is and who we are in the story. But doing that with this story, we lose an important piece of it. The parable Jesus shares is important, but in Luke’s version, it is more important to focus on Jesus and the lawyer.

This reading has a strange format, it goes question—question/answer—answer. In Matthew’s gospel, this parable takes the usual question and answer format, but not in Luke’s. In Luke’s gospel, the lawyer asks “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus, like a teacher checking to see if a student has done the assigned reading asks, “Well, what is written in the law? What do you read there?” Jesus may be the teacher, but as an expert in the law, the lawyer ought to know the answer to this question too.

The lawyer answers this question in a perfect recitation from Leviticus and Deuteronomy[2] saying, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus tells him that he has given the right answer. One thing trial lawyers learn is never to ask a witness a question that you don’t all ready know the answer. This guy must have been in class that day. Jesus affirms the lawyer’s answer saying, “Do this, and you will live.”

The question of inheriting eternal life was much discussed in the time before the writing of Luke’s gospel. The experts in the law commonly accepted that observance of the Torah was essential to inherit eternal life.[3] Using these commands from Leviticus and Deuteronomy to answer the question, the lawyer and the teacher agree that observing the Torah was the key to inherit eternal life. So when Jesus and the lawyer agree, they are sharing the truth of thousands of years of tradition.

But the lawyer’s questions are more than an academic or rabbinic exercise. He wants to justify himself. So he asks Jesus another question, “Who is my neighbor?” This is an important question, more important than we may suppose. What gets lost in the translation of Leviticus is that the original command to love the neighbor specifies “your kin” and “any of your people.”[4] The lawyer wants to be justified that by helping his family and his people he will inherit eternal life. So given the law of the Torah, his question is legitimate.

Then Jesus answers him with a question again. Jesus asks him, “So based on this little story, which of these three, the Priest, the Levite, or the Samaritan, do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?”

I know what you’re thinking: I left out the most famous part! Don’t worry, I’ll get back to the parable, but I dropped it out here to show this odd Lucan pattern again, question—question/answer—answer. The lawyer asks, “Who is my neighbor?” and Jesus asks him back, “Who do you think was a neighbor?”

The lawyer answers, “The one who showed him mercy was a neighbor.” In saying this, the lawyer, the expert in the law tells the world that being a neighbor is about more than just being kin or members of the same nation. It has to do with mercy; it has to do with action. Being a neighbor now means more than it did in Leviticus. Jesus answers him, “Go, and do likewise.” Jesus shares with the man the vision of inheriting eternal life written in the Torah. Then he shows the lawyer that the Living Torah, the person and the work, and the word of Jesus Christ, revises the Torah given to Moses.

Vision and revision, we have a vision of what this parable means. We have a vision of what inheriting eternal life looks like. We have a vision of what justification and justice and security and peace look like, but in Jesus, all that is in our vision faces his revision.

Looking at the parable, we have a man, presumably a Jew since there’s no reason to tell the Lawyer a story about a foreigner. He is going from Jerusalem to Jericho and he is robbed and stripped; beaten and left half dead. Then a priest and a Levite pass by the man, they even cross the road before passing by him. It is easy to pass harsh judgment on these characters in Jesus’ tale. After all, they leave a half-dead man on the side of the road. But let’s not be so rash. It was illegal for the priest and the Levite to touch a dead man. They couldn’t even touch a dead parent without violating the law.

We cannot know for sure, but there is a fifty-fifty chance these men were going from Jericho to Jerusalem, possibly for some festival or observance at the temple. They had responsibilities. They had places to be and things to do. If they had touched a dead man, even to see if he had a pulse or a wisp of breath, they would have become unclean. If the victim were alive and bloody, as our traveler is, they still would have been ceremonially unclean and unable to participate in temple activities in Jerusalem.

Who hasn’t passed a car on the side of the road without helping because there was someplace else to be? I have. Yeah, I’ve stopped a couple of times and helped, but considering the hundreds of times I haven’t stopped, the math is hardly in my favor. The priest and the Levite weren’t being evil, they weren’t even being callus. They were just two guys doing what people do. Frankly, these two aren’t role models for the good neighbor award, but they are hardly the villains they are so often made out to be.

Then the Samaritan comes upon the scene. Often this is where the parable looses its edge. So far in the past, it is hard for us to know the hostility between the Jews and the Samaritans. There was bitter tension between these two peoples.[5] The Samaritans were a mixed race of people, Jews from the half tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh who were assimilated by Assyrian invaders over 700 years earlier.[6] They had opposed the rebuilding of the temple and Jerusalem.[7] They constructed their own place of worship on Mount Gerizim. In short, they were ceremonially unclean, socially outcast, and religiously heretical.[8] The Samaritans were the polar opposites of the priests and the Levites.

We have heard the story so many times that the true magnitude of the scandal is nowhere to be found. We boo the priest and the Levite, and we cheer the Samaritan like the audience of a puppet show. By the end of this story we all want to be the Samaritan. But time has taken the scandal from our reading of this story. The scandal is that no one hearing this story in its original time and place would have ever wanted to be the Samaritan, and suddenly the Samaritan is our neighbor.

We claim to live in an enlightened society, but being enslaved by sin and death and polluted by our own corruption,[9] we are unable to travel this lofty road. In Asia, the fate of the Samaritans has been the lot of Amer-Asian babies, especially those born since the 1950’s to American GI’s in the Korean and Vietnam Wars. The fate of the Samaritan is shared by mixed race peoples in the United States, especially those of mixed African and European descent.

The fate of the Samaritan is found in North America and Australia in the way the aboriginal population was and is treated by the European immigrants. The Indian Caste system created a caste of “untouchables” who are treated much like the Samaritans were treated by the Jews.[10] Those who come to the US today seeking a better life using the immigration laws from the 1620’s face the indignity of the Samaritan in America today while often being used as a source of cheap labor.

We are an enlightened society, we live by rules and laws, we live by a vision of the dream of “one nation under God, indivisible,” but under God, we are faced with the truth that our vision is subject to the revision of Jesus Christ. And we live as slaves to sin, a sin that threatens to divide us all.

So the Jackson’s go into a diner outside of Little Rock and Marie asks if they are still serving lunch and the black woman behind the counter invites them to take a seat. As the afternoon goes on, one at a time, several people, all black, come into the diner. They walk up to the woman at the counter, whisper a question, and leave. After this happens two or three times, it occurs to Marie that they are in a café for blacks. Oh. “But you know,” Marie says, “nobody made us feel uncomfortable. We had a nice lunch and got back on the road.”

Hearing this story, and knowing the volatile racial climate in Little Rock in the 60’s, this story is amazing. Who is my neighbor? To the woman running this diner, her neighbors were a family from Mississippi traveling across Arkansas who needed lunch. Austin and Marie became her neighbors as soon as she helped them on the side of the road.

The lawyer in the story accepts Jesus’ revision of the Torah. He learns that the one who shows mercy like the Samaritan is the neighbor, not those who share family or heritage like the priest and the Levite. What might have started as a theological exercise between the lawyer and teacher becomes more when the law comes to life in Jesus Christ. The question isn’t so much “Who is my neighbor?” as it is “Am I a neighbor?”[11] When the law comes to life, we can no longer answer these questions like we’re taking a college entrance exam. We now have to answer the questions with our hands even more than we do with our heads. Jesus commands us to be good neighbors when he tells the lawyer, “Go, and do likewise.”

[1] This name has been changed.
[2] Leviticus 19:18, Deuteronomy 6:5
[3] “Adlet and Blink,” Commentary section, from Homiletics Online, http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=930000347, accessed June 10, 2007.
[4] Cousar, Charles B., Gaventa, Beverly R., McCann, Jr., J. Clinton, Newsome, James D., Texts for Preaching, A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV, YEAR C. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994, page 427.
[5] Craddock, Fred B., Interpretation, A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching: Luke. Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville, KY, 1990, page 150-151.
[6] Samaritans, Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible. 21st Printing, 1992, Buttrick, George A., Editor. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1962, electronic version 2002.
[7] Ezra 4:2-5, Nehemiah 2:19
[8] Craddock, Ibid, page 150.
[9] Calvin, John, The Institutes of Christian Religion, Volume 2. Battles, Ford Lewis, Translator. The Westminster Press, 1960, AGES Software Version 1.0, Albany, OR, 1998, page 111.
[10] The Caste system has largely become a thing of the past, especially in the cities, but this does not mean that vestiges of it do not continue. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_Caste_System, accessed July 14, 2007.
[11] Halverson, Richard C., Animating Illustrations section from Homiletics Online, ibid.

Sunday, July 08, 2007

New Rules

This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the 14th Sunday of Ordinary Time, July 8, 2007.

2Kings 5:1-14
Psalm 30
Galatians 6:1-16
Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

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

Rules, I have been thinking a lot about rules lately. I have long joked that according to Genesis, we began with one rule. Don’t eat that. Sure, humanity had chores; we were to tend the garden. We had responsibilities too; worship and be in community with God. But really, there was only one rule, don’t eat that. So, how’d that work out? Gradually, the number of rules increased. From one, we went to ten, the Ten Commandments. But really, in the end, those weren’t enough to work in an increasingly complex society. In Judaism, traditionally there are 613 commandments, the Taryag Mitzvot.

The Taryag Mitzvot are separated into two categories, there are 248 mitzvot aseh, or positive commandments, the things we are called to do. There are also 365 mitzvot lo taaseh, or negative commandments, the things we are called never to do. These numbers have significance in Judaism, 248 corresponds to the number of bones and significant organs in the human body according to Jewish tradition and 365 corresponds to the number of days in the year.[1]

Some of these rules make perfect sense to us today, things like, “Know there is a God,” “Know God is One,” and “Entertain thoughts of no other god except for the One True God.” We’re familiar with these rules from the Old Testament. These are lessons Jesus teaches us in the gospels. Then again, there are others we do not follow. For example, the mitzvot includes the prohibition against eating non-kosher fish. Sorry, but I enjoy catfish and shrimp. Neither is kosher, but both are tasty. In fact, if you brought either of these wrapped with bacon for today’s potluck, then I will make it my purpose in life to make sure you don’t have to worry about leftovers. Again, the pork isn’t kosher, but my mouth is watering anyway.

My point is this; rules have long been a part of religion. Some of them are as old as creation; some of them are as recent as the last meeting of the PC (U.S.A.) General Assembly. Some of them are wise in their time but outdated. For example, catfish and shellfish are bottom feeders eating God knows what from the bottoms of ponds and streams. Undercooked pork can lead to trichinosis. But today, with modern farming and food preparation methods the risks associated with non-kosher foods are minimized.

As for the PC (U.S.A.), the Book of Order contains 425 pages of rules of order and discipline along with the Directory for Worship which tells Presbyterians across the country what we shall do, what we should do, what it is appropriate for us to do, and what we may do.[2] Every other year when the General Assembly meets, additions and subtractions to the book are considered. Last summer in Birmingham was no exception. Next summer in San Jose will be no exception.

Know that when these rules were written, both the mitzvot and the Book of Order, they were based on scripture and formulated by the greatest theological minds of the day. None of these were created with a mind toward being petty or officious or legalistic. They were created as a way of interpreting scripture and the law of God for their given society. The Law isn’t bad, but it has its limitations. Our New Testament readings show us that Jesus has changed and continues to change the rules.

In this part of Luke’s gospel, Jesus sends the seventy ahead of him in pairs to the towns he intends to go himself. He is sending advance teams; they are laying the groundwork and doing reconnaissance work for Jesus and for the kingdom. They are sent with very specific instructions of what they are to do.

It’s kind of like when the circus comes to town. There is always a group that comes a day or two before the show to prepare for the arrival of the main caravan. They do the last minute advertising and pre-show publicity. They scout out laundromats, grocery stores, gas stations and other places that are important for a traveling show. They also staple arrows to telephone poles pointing directions for the caravan to follow to the venue. Jesus sends the seventy to do the advance work and give an indication of what a taste of the kingdom of God is like.

So Jesus sends them with instructions, new rules. The first is easy, so easy I missed it until I saw it in a commentary. Jesus’ first instruction is to pray. When reading chapter ten’s second verse, often it is read as a command to collect the harvest. Yes, the harvest is plentiful and yes, the laborers are few, but that is not the most important part of this command. Jesus commands “ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

It is always tempting to take on the mantle of the “doer,” there is something very American about finding something that needs to be done and doing it. So when reading the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, we scream, “Pick me, Monty!”[3] and take up what needs to be done. But this is not what Jesus calls them to do. Jesus gives a new rule to follow before beginning new endeavors. Jesus says pray, Jesus says, “ask the Lord.”

The next thing Jesus does is send out the seventy. He does so with two pieces of advice, two new rules if you will. He tells them it’s dangerous out there and travel light. As Jesus sends the seventy, he says, “Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves.” As Cat Stevens once sang, “Hope you make a lot of nice friends out there/But just remember there's a lot of bad and beware.”[4] Perhaps this is why this piece of advice is coupled with carry no purse, no bag, and no sandals. If the seventy are in danger in the world, it is best they not worry about their stuff.

These instructions also have to do with being dependent upon the Lord for their provisions, and not their own packing skills or wiles. They are told to go and enter a home asking if anyone shares in peace, if so, this is where they are to stay. They are to rely on the Lord for their safety, their lodging, and their sustenance. They aren’t supposed to scope out the town and look for a better offer; they are to stay at the first place that welcomes them. This is the next piece of advice; rely on the peace of the Lord to show you where you are supposed to be.

The following piece comes in two separate places in the reading. Jesus changes the rules; some of the old ones don’t apply any more. In the verse that gives us the advice to travel light, Jesus also tells the seventy to greet no one on the road. Further, when they enter a new town and its people welcome them, they are to eat what is set before them. Neither of these new rules is kosher.

As for greeting people on the road, there is ceremony involved in greeting. When I lived in southeast Colorado it was traditional that when driving down the street everyone waved to everyone. I was told if you didn’t wave to a neighbor when you passed them on the road they wouldn’t talk to you again until after church on Sunday. Because your neighbor snubbed you, everyone at church would know you had snubbed your neighbor. It may seem petty, but it happens everywhere.

Comedian Jeff Foxworthy says that if you allow someone to pass you on the highway and they don’t give you the little “thank you” wave, you should be entitled to ride their tail, make them loose in the back end, and force them into the wall.[5] In a place where greeting someone on the road could end in a ritual taking several hours, Jesus tells his disciples to forego ritual and go.

Of course the command to eat what you are given is difficult for a Jew who keeps a kosher table. The command to cast aside familiar dietary requirements for bacon wrapped shrimp would be very difficult for the seventy to grasp. While Jesus ministry was focused on the Jews, he was traveling through gentile regions too. His recon teams would be traveling into these places first, so they had to be ready for what was ahead of them. So he gives this new rule my father would be proud of, clean your plate.

Jesus’ final piece of advice, his last new rule is to deliver the one message of the imminence of the kingdom of God. He tells the seventy to deliver this one message whether facing acceptance or adversity. He tells them when welcomed into a new community to say this, “the kingdom of God has come near.” Then he tells them what when they are not welcomed into town to say this, “the kingdom of God has come near.” Two completely different circumstances, only one response, “the kingdom of God has come near.”

For those who know the peace of God, this information will be reassuring. This is what we who know the Lord all long to hear and experience. The kingdom of God has come near. For those who reject the peace of God through the disciples, this is an ominous warning. Beware; the kingdom of God has come near.

Two situations, one message; Jesus tells the seventy to deliver the one message of the nearness of the kingdom, and let the chips fall where they may. The seventy are not to call down fire from heaven. James and John were told not to do this in last week’s gospel reading, and the seventy are told not to call down fire this week. The message all humanity needs to hear and learn and respond to is “the kingdom of God has come near.”

So Jesus has given the seventy new rules. Some of these are consistent with the 613 mitzvot, some are not. The Presbyterian Book of Order is not inconsistent with the new rules, though there doesn’t seem to be a specific mention of these rules either.

Earlier I said not only that Jesus changed the rules, but continues to change the rules. This is a dicier proposition. If Jesus is still changing the rules, then what do the new rules look like? I believe Paul’s letter to the Galatians helps us answer this question. Paul tells the church at Galatia to bear one another’s burdens, this way the law of Christ will be fulfilled. He tells the church people who think they are something they are not that they deceive themselves. He tells the church God will not be mocked and they well reap as they sow. This harkens back to the 613 mitzvah. We are reminded not to grow weary in doing what is right. Paul says our lives, our very beings are to be circumcised to Christ, not our bodies to the law. We are to boast in nothing except for the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Darryl Hill was the first African American to play football for the University of Maryland in the early 1960’s. He received a great deal of abuse from fans throughout the South, but he was especially shocked by the shouts and taunts of the crowd at Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Wake Forest had deep Baptist ties and its teams were known as the Demon Deacons.

As the pre-game warm-up ended, Hill notices Wake Forest’s captain approaching him. “I want to apologize for the behavior of my fans,” he said to Hill. Then draping his arm over Hill’s shoulder, he began to walk toward the Wake Forest side of the field, where the jeering was at its worst. By the time the two of them reached the middle of the field, the rude screaming had dropped to near silence.[6]

In a place where slavery and all of its horrible degradations found sanctification in scripture, new rules ended this inhuman practice. In a time and place where abuse of another was justified because of skin color, one man in a football uniform made a step toward changing things by embracing who his fans would not. The old rules people lived by were and continue to be replaced by new rules pointing to new life in Jesus.

Oh, as a professional football player this Wake Forest man would be the first white man to be paired with a black roommate in the National Football League. While the “Kansas Comet” Gale Sayers made a bigger splash in the NFL, it was his roommate who walked Darryl Hill to the Wake side of the field. It is this man who Sayers wrote about him in his book “I Am Third.” This man’s name is Brian Piccolo. You might remember the NFL part of this story from the 70’s TV movie, “Brian’s Song.” Like Paul Harvey would say, “Now you know the rest of the story.”[7]

Remember that the Lord is the one who writes the story, and continues to write the story. And be alert, because sometimes, sometimes he changes the rules. And when rules change we need to be vigilant discerning whether the new rules come from God. When rules point to ways we present ourselves, Jesus reminds us this is nothing. How we present ourselves to him is everything. This is the new rule, the rule of love and obedience toward Jesus Christ our Lord through the cross. We need to be sure any new rule reflects the one truth we know for sure, the kingdom of God has come near.

[1] 613 Mitzvot, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/613_Mitzvot, accessed July 2, 2007.
[2] The Office of the General Assembly, the PC (U.S.A.), The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church U.S.A., Part III, Book of Order, 2005-2007, Preface. Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 2005, page 4.
[3] Monty Hall, a “Let’s Make A Deal” reference
[4] Stevens, Cat, “Wild World.” Off of “Tea for the Tillerman.” 1970.
[5] Foxworthy, Jeff, et. al. “Blue Collar Comedy Tour Rides Again.” Paramount Pictures, 2004.
[6] Animating Illustration from Homiletics Online, http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/printer_friendly_installment.asp?installment_id=9300004, accessed June 10, 2007.
[7] Paul Harvey ends his human interest stories with the tag line, “…and now you know the rest of the story.”

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Try to Remember and Follow

This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 1, 2007

2Kings 2:1-2, 6-14
Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20
Galatians 5:1, 13-25
Luke 9:51-62

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

The travelogue is a classic form of literature and a Missouri man named William Least Heat Moon has written two. The first is a heralded compilation of stories collected as the author traveled for three months around the circumference of the U.S. avoiding big cities and taking the road less traveled. Based on the color of these roads in the old Rand McNally atlas this route was the source of the book’s title, “Blue Highways.”[1] This journey took him to among other places Nameless, Tennessee; Selma, Alabama; Dimebox, Texas; and Moscow, Idaho.

Least Heat Moon’s second travelogue, “River Horse” is an account of his four-month coast-to-coast trip across the U.S., using a variety of boats ranging from a cabin cruiser to a canoe with a trolling motor.[2] This travelogue retraces his attempt to recreate Lewis and Clark's expedition to find the Northwest Passage through the Hudson, Ohio, Mississippi, Missouri, and Columbia rivers along with many smaller tributaries. He estimated that in the end he traveled across country with less than 100 miles out of water. While this route forces him past many major cities including New York, Pittsburgh, Saint Louis, and Portland; Least Heat Moon again spends most of his time in small towns the world seems to have left behind when rails and roads took most of the freight traffic.

This part of Luke’s gospel, from today’s reading through the first half of chapter nineteen are Luke’s travel narrative. In this part of the gospel, Luke describes Jesus’ travels through Palestine as he gradually works his way through the holy land toward Jerusalem and the triumphal entry, and ultimately his crucifixion.

On the face of this reading from Luke’s gospel, there seem to be two stories in this lesson. The first is the story of Jesus being rejected in a Samaritan village, with its little additional piece of James and John wanting to use power to show the might of the Lord. This part of the piece helps us answer the question of whether we should destroy or have compassion for people who reject the Lord. The second is Jesus on the road and the people he meets along the way. In this part of the piece, we are called to wonder what Jesus is looking for in disciples and what discipleship truly means.

We start with Jesus on the road. Even this early in Luke’s gospel Jesus knows where he is going and what is going to happen when he gets there. Whether despite this or because of this, Jesus has his face set toward Jerusalem. He is resolute; he is determined to go to Jerusalem. Of course this made the Samaritans none too happy. And since the Samaritans and Jews were related like the Hatfield’s and the McCoy’s were related, when it was clear that Jesus was destined for Jerusalem, the Samaritans would not receive him.

These peoples were on different roads, the Jews believed the Lord made Mount Zion home where the Samaritans believed Mount Gerizim was the house of the Lord. This difference is never clearer than the story of the Samaritan woman at the well from the fourth chapter of John’s gospel. But in this case, there was no woman at the well to hear the word of the Lord and the entire traveling party was left out in the cold. Here is a group of people, an entire nation of folks who were not ready to hear the word of the Lord because it was in such dire conflict with their society and its faith.

Boy, I can’t say things have changed much since antiquity? I’ve said it before and I’m about to say it again, everything that’s old is new again.

Jesus then meets three travelers along the road after leaving Samaria. The first wants to follow Jesus. I’ve said before that Jesus had two types of followers, those who wanted to follow Jesus and those who wanted to follow a great crowd. This man seems to fall into the latter group. “I will follow you wherever you go” he says. So Jesus tells the man “go” is the operative word. They have everywhere to go and nowhere to stay. Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man was just kicked out of a Samaritan village.

This time there is less than no room at the inn, now there isn’t even an inn.

The next man’s case is a little different, “Follow me” our Lord cries. But this man has plans; he needs to bury his father. But Jesus tells him in no uncertain terms this is not his job, his job is to go and proclaim the kingdom of God.

Finally, the last man who didn’t receive the second one’s invitation says he will follow, but wants to bid his family farewell first. Jesus tells him that looking back is no way to go forward into new life. Looking back makes him unfit for the kingdom of God.

You know, maybe Jesus got a lousy night’s sleep because he wasn’t welcome in the Samaritan village; but for whatever reason, he’s more than a little cranky this morning.

In this passage, Jesus is dealing with foreigners and with his own people. He is dealing with people in a strange town and he is dealing with his entourage. He is coping with being rejected by people who don’t want him and by people who do. He also seems to be ignoring people who don’t want him and rejecting people who do. There seems to be a lot of differences between the two halves of the passage, yet there is a very important connection. Jesus is teaching all of these people what it takes to be his disciple. We learn that we must accept the Lord into our community, follow the Lord for his sake, choose life, and move forward. Through this we receive God’s grace and peace and bear the fruit of God’s Spirit.

Unlike the people in Samaria, we need to welcome Jesus into our community, into our village, our homes and our lives. Life in Jesus is completely unlike life without him, it is wholly different. All change is frightening, but we are called to change and welcome the Lord to our lives. In the Lord we go from doing things our way to doing them his way. The way Jesus shows us to be.

Unlike the first man, we aren’t to follow Jesus because of what’s in it for us; we are to respond to God because God has all ready responded to us with the offer of free grace. Often we hear of people who join organizations like Rotary or the Optimist club to make business connections. Jesus reminds us we are to follow him to glorify him. We do not follow for our profit, but for the Glory of God.

Unlike the second man, we are called to choose life over death. The way Jesus puts this is shocking, especially in a society that has such rich and deep family traditions as the Jews. But where in last week’s lesson the Gerasene was told by the Lord to stay at home and share the Gospel, here the Jewish man is told by the Lord to go and spread the Gospel. In the end, both of these men are called to respond to the Lord, not to their own needs. Our joy is that in the Lord, grief and suffering are valued and shared by the Lord and through Him is new life, not old death. Through Christ, even our grief is redeemed.

Finally, the last man wants to follow, but first he wants to say good bye to his old way of life before embarking on the new. Jesus tells him about how spreading the Good News is like plowing a field. Straight lines cannot be plowed by someone looking back over their shoulder to see where they’ve been. Looking back shows the old mistakes that can’t be changed; looking forward is the only way to prepare the field for harvest properly.

But there is one more very important thing to note about the three men Jesus speaks with, scripture does not tell us Jesus left even one of them behind. Jesus doesn’t send anyone away. Jesus doesn’t reject anyone. Jesus doesn’t say “no,” instead he says “now there is a new way.” To each of these men Jesus describes what he would have them do now. Jesus gives them each a new command.

Oh, and further, Jesus shows James and John that there is a better way to deal with people who disagree, disregard, and disrespect the Lord than to call down fire upon them. The son of Man did not come to destroy people, but to save them.[3]

Maybe, just maybe they did not change their ways immediately, but they continued with Jesus until they were fit for the kingdom of God, the old “fake it ’til you make it.” Maybe, just maybe each of these men chose the new life Jesus offered instead of the life they were living. And maybe, just maybe, each of these men repented. And hopefully, quite hopefully, the lives of each of these men began to bear the fruit of the Spirit Paul shares in Galatians. Through the love of the Lord, the free gift of his grace and peace, and their life in the Spirit, life bears the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. And against these things there is no law.

The Eureka Theater Company recently finished its six show run of Harvey Schmidt and Tom Jones’ (no, not that Tom Jones) long running Off-Broadway musical “The Fantasticks.” The opening number is called, “Try to Remember.”[4] The first two verses end with this line:

Try to remember and if you remember then follow.

This is our call. We are to remember the new life of peace and love and grace which is ours through Jesus Christ. He calls us to put him first, before all things. And through the fruit of the Holy Spirit, his grace opens us to new life. It allows us to live and to love and even to mourn in a new way; a way that shows the love of God in our lives, a way that puts God first; not our priorities, but the Lord’s.

The last line in the song offers advice for remembering and putting the Lord first even in the dark and cold times:

Deep in December our hearts should remember and follow.

In the days of the harvest of joy and glory we should remember and follow. And in the coldest and darkest days of our December we should remember and follow. Be in Christ, remember, and follow.

[1] Least Heat Moon, William, Blue Highways: A Journey Into America. Fawcett, 1982.
[2] Least Heat Moon, William, River Horse: The Logbook of a Boat Across America. Houghton Mifflin, 1999.
[3] Reference to verse 9:56a which is not found in the oldest of transcripts and was probably added as a commentary by later scribes. (Metzger)
[4] “Try to Remember” from “The Fantasticks.” Music by Harvey Schmidt, lyrics and book by Tom Jones, The Fantasticks Company, 1960.