The Company You Keep

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday September 25, 2011, the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

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Exodus 17:1-7

Psalm 78:1-4, 12-16

Philippians 2:1-13

Matthew 21:23-32

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

One of the most important things faith teaches us to do is speak truth to power. Power tends to take care of itself. Power tends to take care of itself at the expense of those who fall under the its scheming. Power tends to take care of itself at the expense of truth. Remember the old expression “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” This is why truth must speak to power. In our gospel reading the Truth speaks to the power.

As we look at Matthew’s gospel, we need to remember that Jesus may be the Truth, but in the ways of the temple and the empire, he is nothing. We tend to approach Jesus from where we live, on this side of the cross and the resurrection. We remember that in Matthew’s gospel there is no secret that Jesus is Lord. John the Baptist made this clear not only the day before and the day of the Lord’s baptism; John made it clear to his mother in utero that Jesus is Lord.

There’s nothing bad about looking at faith from this side of the resurrection. It’s our life, our experience, and gloriously it’s the root of our faith. But considering this reading from our side of the resurrection, we miss things. We especially miss the Lord’s lack of formal earthly staus.

Historically, the events in our reading happen the day after the triumphant entry into Jerusalem, the day after Palm Sunday. So the past several days have been wild with preparations for the Passover; not just for Jesus and the disciples but for all of Israel. Jerusalem had a population of about 40,000 people at the time and with an additional 200,000 religious pilgrims and other visitors who were there for the celebration,[1] the city was being stretched to its limits. This stretching wasn’t unlike any other Passover, but this time there was something more.

On the day before our reading, Jesus rode into town on the back of a donkey. He rode into town as palm branches covered the road and cloaks covered the animal. The people were shouting and praising the Lord and the One who comes in the Lord’s Name. This was a cause of some concern. In an occupied territory, it’s never good news for the invading force when the people’s fervor reaches a fever pitch.

So while this is happening, Pilate comes to Jerusalem. Like every other political leader he never travels without his entourage and his party was large and well armed. The Passover was traditionally a time of political uprising in Palestine and this year there was talk of a new prophet in the hills north of Jerusalem. So like any good Roman prelate, Pilate came ready for trouble.

Pilate would be ready for the nearly quarter-million residents and visitors and the rabble they carried in their wake. There would be more than enough soldiers, there would be more than enough arms, and Pilate rode at the head on his war steed to show that he meant business.[2]

Caught in the middle of this were the temple elite, the chief priests and the elders. There were caught between the people, the faith, and the Roman overlords who allowed them to keep their positions of power and authority.


Rome had a couple of overriding rules for the lands they conquered. The first was “Caesar is God.” The next was “Keep paying the tribute.” Another was “Keep the peace.” As long as those were met, Rome was happy and the people were allowed to live. This was true even about faith and religion. The people of Israel could keep their faith as long as the rules were followed.

So Jesus comes into town and the people are with him. This isn’t good because the Roman authorities with their invading armies are never happy when huge crowds invoke the name of a god who is not Caesar. This put the chief priests and the elders in a pickle, because if riots broke out they would be held accountable as the leaders of the conquered peoples.

Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, when Jesus came to the temple he ran out the money changers before he left the city for the night. This brought joy to the blind, lame, and children while it took bread from the mouths of the temple staff. Much like today, the offerings to the temple provided for temple leaders, workers, musicians, custodians and so on. So driving out the money changers is like closing the temple bank. If you ever want to upset a chief priest, tell them they aren’t going to get paid because some country Rabbi from the backwaters of Nazareth and Galilee upset the apple cart.

We can assume the temple leaders were well informed; but more than smart they were sly. It was the only way to balance their responsibilities in their setting as they saw it. Because of this cunning, John called them a brood of vipers on the banks of the Jordan. It would be wrong for us to think that they did not know what John’s prophecy meant and how it pertained to Jesus. They would have known what happened the day before as Jesus entered Jerusalem too. We can assume they had a finger on the pulse of the people as well as the Roman garrison. It would be the only way they could survive, especially in those tenuous times.

To give us an idea of the Lord’s mindset, let’s remember that Matthew reports he cursed and killed a fig tree on his way into town that morning. Jesus was ready for anything too.

So our reading begins when Jesus comes back into town and begins teaching at the temple before the leaders make it to the office. They begin their day asking “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?”

I think we have an idea about the mindset of the chief priests and the elders. If they weren’t upset, they were at least nervous. They might have asked this question out of their nerves, or perhaps out of awe, or they might have even asked out of hostility.

Anyway, they have the formal authority. The temple especially is under their authority. They have every right to ask this question. But the tide changed with Jesus’ answer.

So Jesus answers like a true rabbi, with a question. “Sure, I’ll answer your question if you answer mine first: ‘Did the baptism of John come from heaven or was it of human origin?’”

Now they’re in trouble and they know it. The huddle of Rabbis looks like a football defense deep in its own territory. They discuss their options. If they say “it comes from heaven” he will ask “then why don’t you believe?” If they say “its origin is human” the people will have their heads. The people love Jesus, they love John, they know the prophecy; so the prophets can’t take that chance.

On top of that, the people can take either of these answers to incite a riot against Pilate; and that’s not going to work for the people who are trying to keep a lid on civil unrest. So they do the one thing they hope will keep the peace. Nothing.

If they won’t answer his question Jesus won’t answer theirs.

As I said earlier, looking at this from our side of the resurrection misses some very important things. One is that we know the answer to this question. He could have answered their question saying the authority comes from my father. He could say the authority comes from God. He could say that he is God and has the authority. Jesus could give them a straight answer to their question but he doesn’t. Instead, he unites himself with John. If the temple elite considered Jesus to be a country Rabbi, then comparing himself to John made him the ultimate outsider.

Jesus identifies himself with the prophet of the wilderness. John ran around the countryside of the Near East wearing camel hair and a leather belt. As classy as that sounds, good fabric choices and all, what he was wearing was a camel skin poncho tied around his waist with what was left from long ago.

If Jesus was from the hinterlands then John was from Mars.

On the day before, on Palm Sunday, who was with Jesus? Was it the temple elite? No, they were too busy taking care of business to meet the Lord they had long expected. Was it the Romans? No, they were busy with their own parade. Was it the bankers, no they were busy making change—two doves for a penny, five for two.

Jesus came associating with John, the prophet of the wilderness. Jesus was with the blind, the lame and the children; those who have no one to stand for them in the society that was Israel. Jesus was with that fifth dove, the one that was of no account to the moneychangers or temple elite.

Jesus emptied himself of his heavenly power to maintain his heavenly place. He could have taken his power and shown the chief priests and elders all about his authority. He could have told them all “I AM” but he didn’t. He didn’t invoke his name or his power or his peace to the powerful. Jesus made his stand with the people nobody with any power or authority would stand with. The fully-human-fully-divine Jesus Christ did not announce his authority in a fully divine voice; he chose the fully human instead. He chose to be among the people who needed him the most.

Jesus didn’t aspire to the authority that places him at the center of earthly power. Instead, he chooses to identify himself with the weak and the marginal. He identifies himself with the poorest of the poor. He stands with those who cannot stand for themselves.

Paul tells us that we should follow Christ’s example in this self emptying sort of love.  He describes how we should follow Jesus saying:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

who, though he was in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God

as something to be exploited,

but emptied himself,

taking the form of a slave,

being born in human likeness.

And being found in human form,

            he humbled himself

and became obedient to the point of death--

even death on a cross.

He chooses not to stand with those who stand without external authority. He chooses not to stand with Rome and the Caesar who declares himself God. He does not stand with the temple leaders who play politics that would made modern leaders blush. He stands with those who are meek and humble. Paul tells us this is what we must aspire to.

Jesus then tells us it is better to do the right thing than to say the right thing, this is one of the ways to read the parable of the two sons. By their answer at the end of verse 31, the chief priests and elders know this is true. Yet as Jesus so unsympathetically tells them, it is those who repent and follow, even if they are the most reviled members of society, they will go into the kingdom before these men of high esteem. The poor know Jesus at his most human so they can see him at his most divine. They have repented.

They followed the Christ. The temple leadership did not.

Years ago, New York Life used the slogan, “The Company You Keep.” It was their way of saying that if you want to be successful in money management then you should follow their lead, their advice. (Given the state of the economy over the last twenty years, many investors did much, much worse than New York Life.) But as Jesus shows us, this is not the most important company we can keep. Jesus is telling us though that the company we keep is very important.

Some will be seduced by the finer things of this life; the good seats at banquets, the first cuts of breads and meats from the temple offerings, a place in the affairs of politics—the trappings of earthly power. John preached the way of righteousness and the sinners believed. Despite (or maybe because of) their knowledge, the leaders did not. The leaders knew all of the words and none of the actions.

Jesus spoke the Truth to the powerful, telling them to repent, to turn from the ways of the world. Jesus identified himself with John and the weak and the poor. He keeps their company because they have chosen not to be salves to this world but to be sons and daughters of the kingdom of God.

Jesus, the God who would also be a man showed us something better. He took the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross. He chose us to be his company, we must do the same.

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[1] Rollefson, John, “Feasting on the Word, Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary.” David L. Bartlet and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010, page 154

[2] Ibid.

Whatever Is Right

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday September 18, 2011, the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

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Exodus 16:2-15

Psalm 105:1-6, 37-45

Philippians 1:21-30

Matthew 20:1-16

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

Through our ears, our modern ears, this parable is odd. So let’s start with something very important, this is a parable. The differences between the story and historic custom will make that clear.

Historically, when looking for day laborers, an overseer would go to the town square and would select all of the laborers he would need for the day’s work. The overseer would be skilled in knowing the job and the number of people needed to do the work. At the end of the day, the overseer, probably with a household treasurer of some sort, would pay the men and send them on their way.

In our parable, it is the landowner who goes to square to hire laborers. Unlikely. He not only goes out at sunrise, he goes out again at 9:00 am, noon, 3:00 pm and again at 5:00 pm. Highly unlikely. It’s more likely that the landowner would have either been at the square solving the problems of the world like ancient landowners did or been busy making more deals like modern businessmen do. 

Further, the simple fact that there would still be men waiting to be hired one hour before quitting time doesn’t ring true either. They would have either found work or not expected to work that day because, as I just said, the overseer gets all of his workers at sunrise.

Now, as there are some facets of this parable that don’t ring true, some of the details are dead solid perfect. The day was long; the work day started at 6:00 am and ended at 6:00 pm, generally from sunrise to sunset. There would still be enough time to get the staples needed before heading back to what passes for a home to these migrant workers. Very few had families so the single denarius would keep them marginally fed and sheltered.

Last week I said that the denarius was a living wage, in truth it is just barely a living wage. It would not be like the wages of an average household in Marshall like I said last week. It would be more like living on $11,000, poverty level. It is said that the life of a day laborer was short and hard, some things never change.

So if we have established one thing about this parable, it is that Jesus was telling a story, a story with a lesson for the disciples to understand. A story that would have some elements that would ring true to every one of his disciples and some that would be outrageous. This is what we need to take from this parable first, it is a parable, it’s not “ripped from the headlines” like Wednesday’s premier of “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.”

This is actually a good thing because let’s be honest, I’m just as miffed that the men who only showed up for an hour got the same pay as the men who worked hard all day long. It goes with our mindset; an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay. You work twelve hours, you get twelve hours worth of pay. You pick so many bushels of grapes or sheaves of wheat or hundreds of widgets you get paid for that much work. It’s what’s right.

I know when I was young, and somebody on Thursday said the same thing, I thought the next day would be a real bad day for the landowner; nobody would want to work all day for him ever again! He could get all of the “one hour labor” he wanted, but all day? No way.

These are just more reasons we need to look at this as a parable and not as a true story.

As far as I’m concerned paying for the work done, not paying for standing around is right, and I suspect many of you feel the same way. Shoot, even the workers who put in a full day thought it was unfair. This is not the way of the parable.

But then again, I’m looking at this from my modern point of view. I come from the point of view of a man who once managed a business that had a half-million dollar annual revenue in the late 80’s. I managed employees in the private and public sectors, and did it with a point of view that comes from having a Bachelor of Science in Business degree. Even with a degree in College Student Development, I am still inclined to process budgets and create spreadsheets like the business student I once was.

I notice I’ve just spent the last few minutes going on about what this parable is not. It’s not a real story. It’s not based on fact. It’s not “ripped from the headlines.” It never has been and probably never will be taught in business school. We are not familiar with anything like it.

This is the point of view that is familiar to most of us, but there is another. In his 1996 book “Santa Biblia: The Bible through Hispanic Eyes”,[1] Justo Gonzales notes that this parable elicits surprisingly different reactions when read to typical, middle-class audiences in America compared to Hispanic audiences. Gonzales says:

These are people who identify with the problems of the field workers. They understand the laborer who travels in his pickup truck trying to find work with little success, or, even if he finds work, he is standing around waiting until the job materializes.

At the end of the parable when the landowner pays the wages, the Hispanic congregation applauds when the laborers who worked for only one hour get paid a full day's pay. They are not confused by this, but understand that the people looking for work and who have been waiting for work need a day's pay to survive. They rejoice, then, at the grace that is not contrary to justice, but that flows with justice. They are paid what they need and deserve rather than the wages they might have been paid had society's concept of justice prevailed.[2]

According go Gonzales, Hispanic migrant workers going from farm to farm to look for work at the will of the master understands grace in ways that stereotypically Presbyterians do not. Sorry about using a stereotype, but it applies here. Statistics show that most Presbyterians live at an income level that is above the national average. We are more likely to be the overseer than the migrant.

Still as we know all too well about statistics, “numbers don’t lie but numbers don’t bleed.”[3] Statistics speak to a people, to a nation; but they can never portray the situation of an individual.

Getting back from the caveat and onto the main point, on the whole we don’t experience the grace of God fashioned in this parable as much as we experience what we would consider it being wronged by someone who gets more than we think they deserve.

I can speak for myself, when I was young my dad worked for TWA, Trans World Airlines. He lost several promotions because of concessions made to labor unions in contract negotiations. Just when one labor union would settle and he was back in line for promotion, bam, here’s the next waiting to take what would ultimately come from him. He was quite unhappy about the situation and that made the little boy in me upset too. So I get this.

Maybe for me the first point is that I don’t understand the actions of the landowner. Based on the values I learned as a young boy at my father’s knee and a young man in college, it doesn’t seem right. But there is one thing I can say I understand about the parable. Something we can all understand is that it’s the landowner’s right to do whatever he wants with his money, his land, and his crop. If he chooses to give everyone the same pay for unequal work then that’s up to him.

Jesus asks “Are you envious because I am generous?” Well, maybe the answer to that simple question is yes, I am.

But there’s another old expression, a prayer if you will, that would work for his situation. “Lord, please give me what I need and not what I deserve.” Based on our reading from last week I mentioned that we commit $2 billion worth of sin against the Lord while we commit (based on my adjusted figures) a paltry $7,000 against one another. In that parable the Lord forgives greatly and expects us to forgive one another too.

This week’s reading provides us with the idea that it doesn’t matter when we come to the party, the reward is the same. This is one of the many ways to imagine grace.

It’s combining these two readings that makes me stand up straight. We owe a debt to the Lord that is as great as the value of the whole Dallas Cowboys Football Organization, and even though we cannot repay such a debt we are forgiven. Today we see that not only are we forgiven; but regardless of when we come to the table we are given this day our daily bread.

Sounds familiar, “Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” You see, daily bread isn’t the request for quail and manna from our Exodus reading. We should never look to return to the fleshpots of our own little Egypt’s where we trade our personal slavery for full bellies. Our prayer is for what we need to get us through the day—each and every day. The Lord’s Prayer doesn’t handle our 401(k) or other wonders of wealth. In the Lord’s Prayer we’re just like a day laborer in the name of the Lord asking not asking for all we want and more, but for just what we need.

Our debts are forgiven as we forgive our debtors, and last week’s reading made that painfully real when the master sent the unforgiving slave to prison and torture. This week we learn that the master, the landowner in this parable, will do with what is his as he pleases.

Maybe, just maybe that is the point of this parable. The Lord God works in wonderful and mysterious ways, ways that are far more generous than we could ever hope or imagine. It’s easy to understand why we aren’t that generous. Economists tell us that economics is the study of the use of scarce resources. Whenever we look at a parable of Jesus that includes money, it is our habit to look at the wealth like a scarce resource that will ultimately dry up. That’s our world, that’s our economics.

The glory of God is that the denarii of the parable will never run out. In the kingdom of God, the landowner will never run short. People will come daily and there will always be enough. That’s the glory of God.

That is what makes God so completely different than us. God’s grace and God’s mercy know no bounds. As our parables teach us, our wisdom, our forgiveness, our ideas of what’s right pale next to the Lord’s.

As for the interpretation at the end, “So the last will be first and the first will be last,” I’m not sure how well this fits. Yes, those who came last were paid first and vice versa, but there is something more important. Those who came to the master, the landowner, all received what was right. Whether you were hired at sunrise or at 5:00 in the afternoon; whether you have lived your life as a disciple or came to faith later in life, all who come receive the full day’s wage.

It was pointed out to me this week that those who came later, those who came only with the promise that they would be paid “whatever is right” showed more faith. Those who came later came to the vineyard with no specific promise of wage, they only knew that they came with the promise of whatever is right, whatever is just. They weren’t promised whatever is fair, they were promised something different and something better. They were promised what is right.

No, this parable is outrageous for our ears. In the day and time we live in it seems more like welfare than wage, but grace is the promise. We are promised whatever is right, whatever is just. Thank God we receive this instead of what we deserve.

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[1] Gonzales, Justo, “Santa Biblia: The Bible through Hispanic Eyes,” Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1996 pages 62-63.

[2] http://www.homileticsonline.com/subscriber/illustration_search.asp?keywords=fairness+&Search=7&imageField.x=0&imageField.y=0

[3] Walkenhorst, Bob, “Too Many Twenties.” From “The Rainmakers” CD “Skin”

What We Remember

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday September 11, 2011, the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

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Exodus 14:19-31

Psalm 114

Romans 14:1-12

Matthew 18:21-35

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 guess I don’t have to remind anybody what today is. Al mentioned it during the announcements and I even touched on it in my greeting on this somber day. Vicke even brought it up last week during her Children’s Sermon. One of the things she asked was if 9-11 fell on Monday or Tuesday ten years ago. I was the first to say Tuesday. I knew because I knew exactly were I was when the news started to make it out to the Central Time Zone.

It’s easy for me to remember because it was my second week in seminary. I was sitting in the Rev. Dr. Kathryn Roberts’ Introduction to the Old Testament class, a class that met on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and we were covering the Hebrew alphabet. As we were learning our “Aleph, Beth, Gimel’s” a buzz started to rise in the hallway. It was louder than usual, but it was my second week in seminary, so what did I know about normal?

My first inkling about what was going on happened when I went to the financial aid office. Glenna Balch, the seminary’s wonderful Director of Financial Aid, was listening to the news playing on her radio. Sorry folks, live audio internet streaming was still in its infancy and live streaming video was embryonic; if you were at work and there was no TV, you depended on the radio. I was her office for a while and did some paperwork while listening to what was going on in New York. The overwhelming feeling I had is that this is what it must have been like listening to H.G. Wells’ “War of the Worlds” live on the radio on October 30, 1938.

For those of you who are not familiar with 70 year old radio dramas, “War of the Worlds” was the brain child of Orson Welles who was also director of the Mercury Theater of the Air. It began like any regular music program would begin, with the announcer welcoming the audience and a band starting the show. Suddenly, the music program is interrupted by breaking news. The news was that the earth had just been invaded by Mars. It wasn’t until the show’s fortieth minutes that the focus went from what was supposed to be the radio news broadcast and onto the narrator and his story.

In a time before television, radio broadcast not just news and music, but comedy and drama shows too. Breaking news was also a part of the day because of the rise of Hitler and the war in Europe. To a listener who thought it was just a normal music show, it sounded like a global tragedy was breaking loose in the swamps of Jersey. Welles’ show was on CBS Radio and broadcast nation-wide, and because it had no commercials the fake news reports sounded like real news reports. It caused pockets of panic around the country. What was meant to be a scary story for Halloween became an even scarier story.

As I told Glenna, listening to the news was like listening to “War of the Worlds,” except that this time it was real.

I went home and went to Marie. She had already been in the hospital twice since we moved to Austin three or four weeks earlier, so I knew she would be fragile. We just sat and watched everything unfold on TV.

I’ll admit it; I suspect you are thinking more about where you were on 9-11 than listening to me at this moment. That’s fine, I was hoping to open a door to a moment of remembrance. I know for a fact that my story is not more important than yours.

I went down this road because honestly I had trouble knowing where to go with our readings from Romans and Matthew.

Matthew gives us a parable with commentary tacked on the end for good measure. Peter asks how many times we should forgive. His offer of seven sounds overly reasonable to an Old Testament scholar. Seven is forever connected to blessings and curses, so to forgive seven times rather than curse for seven generations is quite generous.

So when Jesus tells him “No, not seven times, but seventy-seven times” he’s blowing the Law of Moses and conventional wisdom completely out of the water.

The parable itself is about a man who seeks patience to repay his debt but will not show the same to his fellow slave. The scope of debt is expressed in a way that we don’t relate to because we don’t know the conversions. To put it in perspective, 100 denarii is 100 days worth of wages to the average laborer. Based on the average income for a household in Marshall, that would be somewhere around $20,000. A talent weighs a little over 75 pounds. Since the debt would have been measured in gold and given the spot price of gold on Monday when I ran this little computation, 10,000 talents would come to just over $2 billion.

The king forgives a debt that is so incredible that none of us could scarcely fathom. One example we can begin to get a grip on: This week Forbes magazine reported the Dallas Cowboys are worth $1.85 billion.[i] So imagine being forgiven by Jerry Jones for losing the entire Cowboys franchise—lock, stock, and stadium. Funny, I don’t see that story ending the same way as that part of the parable.

As for $20,000, that’s a new car; and not one with a ton of bells and whistles either. We have a grip on that kind of debt. It’s not cheap, but it’s doable.

The king forgives, he doesn’t grant a reprieve he cancels the full debt. The king forgives more than we could ever hope or imagine. But the man who receives such grace cannot extend it to his brother, his fellow slave. The king is generous, but he also has an eye to what’s right, even if that eye is focused in anger. If you can’t forgive then you will pay the same price you assigned your brother.

Marie and I were watching “The Children of 9/11” on NBC Monday night. They were interviewing children whose parents were killed in the World Trade Centers, the Pentagon, and on United Flight 93. One of the girls, maybe about 13 years old said even if 1,000 innocent Muslims came and apologized to her for killing her father, she would not forgive. She could not accept the apology of a nation for deeds of a few. This was followed by a young girl whose father, a Muslim, also worked and was killed at the World Trade Center. She said that she could never understand how Islam could be so warped to make their action an act of faith. She could not understand.

Now, I won’t pass judgment on the young girl who lost her father and cannot forgive. I don’t expect a thirteen year old to have a faith that can move that mountain. She’s thirteen! She lost her father in the premier national tragedy of our country! She was a spectacle of media for months and now years after the fact! These are not the makings of repentance from anger and delivery from grief and sorrow.

Our reading from Romans teaches us we are not to pass judgment on those whose faith is weak. We are not to cast away someone just because of judgment on “disputable matters.” The New Living Translation says this more cleanly, “Accept other believers who are weak in faith, and don’t argue with them about what they think is right or wrong.” I know not to reject the thirteen year old girl who does not have forgiveness in her heart today. She’s known the most horrible sorrow a girl or boy can know and she’s had it for three-quarters of her life. I can pray one day she will forgive, but I cannot and will not blame her for how she feels, especially not today.

There’s something else in Romans that needs to be addressed today. Paul writes, “One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers everyday alike.” In a way we started our worship today saying that today was different from last Sunday and will be different from the next. We say this because there is something in the fiber of our nation that says this day is different.

There is a story that a member of a Baptist church asked his preacher why they didn’t celebrate Lent (the season of preparation for Easter). The preacher told him that they don’t celebrate Lent because we are an Easter people. To this preacher every day is just as special as any other, every day is a celebration because since the resurrection everyday is Easter. This is how we are called to live our lives, we are supposed to live like everyday is the resurrection because everyday we live in the resurrection.

Despite being someone who likes the calendar that gives us Advent and Christmas, Lent and Easter, I like this story. We should live everyday like it’s the day of the resurrection. So here’s the question, is today a special day or should every day be just a special? Paul doesn’t answer this question.

He does say “He who regards one day as special, does so to the Lord… For none of us lives to himself alone and none of us dies to himself alone. If we live, we live to the Lord and if we die, we die to the Lord. So whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. For this very reason, Christ died and returned to life so that he might be the Lord of both the living and the dead.”

In short, it doesn’t really matter whether we consider this a special day or another special day as long as we give thanks to God. “Every knee will bow and every tongue confess to God.” By this, each of us we will ultimately be held accountable.

In the eyes of some, this is where the church fell short as the people of God on 9-11. Will Willimon is the Presiding Bishop over the North Alabama Conference of the United Methodist Church. Along with his numerous other gifts and talents, he is a renowned preacher. These are his thoughts about this 9-11:

For the most powerful, militarized nation in the world also to think of itself as an innocent victim is deadly. It was a rare prophetic moment for me, considering Presidents Bush and Obama have spent billions asking the military to rectify the crime of a small band of lawless individuals, destroying a couple of nations who had little to do with it, in the costliest, longest series of wars in the history of the United States.

The silence of most Christians and the giddy enthusiasm of a few, as well as the ubiquity of flags and patriotic extravaganzas in allegedly evangelical churches, says to me that American Christians may look back upon our response to 9/11 as our greatest Christological defeat. It was shattering to admit that we had lost the theological means to distinguish between the United States and the kingdom of God. The criminals who perpetrated 9/11 and the flag-waving boosters of our almost exclusively martial response were of one mind: that the nonviolent way of Jesus is stupid. All of us preachers share the shame; when our people felt very vulnerable, they reached for the flag, not the Cross.

September 11 has changed me. I'm going to preach as never before about Christ crucified as the answer to the question of what's wrong with the world. I have also resolved to relentlessly reiterate from the pulpit that the worst day in history was not a Tuesday in New York, but a Friday in Jerusalem when a consortium of clergy and politicians colluded to run the world on our own terms by crucifying God's own Son.

My way of paraphrasing what Willimon is saying is that in the shadow of 9-11 the phrase “God and Country” has become “Country and God.” He says that in the shadow of 9-11 the people of God set aside the cross for the flag and this is the failure of the church.

I thank God everyday that I live in a country where not only am I allowed to praise God, I am allowed to praise God as I am called to praise God. I thank God that our nation is protected by men and women who are volunteers, who have chosen to offer themselves to protect all of us. I thank God that I am allowed to pray for the civilian and military leaders who create the policy they help implement. I thank God I am allowed to pray that our political leaders are worthy of the respect shown by our military.

But there one thing we need to take from our readings that if we don’t we won’t be Christ’s church.

God saves. Our God saves; and one of the things God expects us to do in return is to have mercy, to forgive one another. To take our parable a little too literally, God our King has forgiven us $2 billion worth of sin against the Lord and asks that we forgive a comparatively paltry $20,000 worth of sin against each other. All the while, we are called not to judge poorly those who cannot forgive because their faith is weak.

We are called to forgive because humanity’s sin against God is greater than the sin we can commit against one another, even the sin a group of 20 terrorists perpetrated against thousands of individual people, their families, and this nation. Maybe that’s the hard lesson of 9-11 for the church. Humanity’s sin against God is greater than our sin against each other. God forgives, God saves, and so we are called to forgive too. This is what we are called to remember.

Some people call today “Patriot’s Day” and I want to wave the flag, shoot, I approved the bulletin cover. But that is not my vocation, not from this pulpit. My call is to raise the cross. My call is like that of John the Baptist and point to Jesus. My call is to exalt Christ above anything the world will try to put along side him. This is not easy. I pray for the strength to proclaim Christ over exalting a nation, even, in my opinion, the greatest nation on Earth. As we remember the victims of 9-11, let us remember the one who saves us all first.

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[i] Associated Press, “Dallas Cowboys Most Valuable NFL Franchise,” http://espn.go.com/nfl/story/_/id/6941473/dallas-cowboys-most-valuable-nfl-team-forbes-list, retrieved September 11, 2011.

This Sermon Is Not About You

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday September 4, 2011, the 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time.

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Exodus 12:1-14

Psalm 149

Romans 13:8-14

Matthew 18:15-20

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

When I started writing the sermon early last week, I had a beautiful illustration for how to make it look like two people were following 18:15-17 from our reading this morning, Christ’s directions to his disciples on conflict resolution. Now as I cryptically said, the illustration made it “look like” they were following Christ’s directions, but truly they weren’t.

After sharing the illustration I was going to say “But this sermon is not about them, and it’s not about you either.” As it would happen, on Wednesday Al told me that I needed to take a look at the web site he checks for children’s sermons. The next day at Lectio Divina, the group that meets on Thursday to study the gospel reading, I was given more food for thought. Then I read an article on line that asked the pastoral question “Are You a Preacher or a Motivational Speaker?” At that point, the old illustration was worthless.

The children’s sermon Al shared with me was wonderful. I won’t share the whole text with you, but here’s the Reader’s Digest condensed version:

Once upon a time there were two brothers. When their father died, they inherited and split their father’s farm and continued in the family business. One day, one of them offended the other over a slight that is now long forgotten.

Then one day, a carpenter visited one of the brothers and asked if there was any work for him. The farmer-brother said yes, there was work. He wanted the carpenter to build a fence along the stream that split their property so he didn’t have to see his brother again.

At the end of the day, the farmer came to check on the carpenter’s work only to discover that instead of building a wall, he built a bridge. Shocked at the work, he was even more amazed to see his brother on the other side. “After all the terrible things I’ve done to you over the years, I can't believe that you would build a bridge and welcome me back.”[1] He then reached out to his brother and gave him a big hug.

After the two men made amends, the brother that hired the carpenter went home. The farmer asked the carpenter to stay. The carpenter replied “No, I have more bridges to build.”

There are several ways to interpret scripture, among them are descriptive and prescriptive. The descriptive way of interpreting scripture interprets through explanation, a grand rephrasing of the word of God for the people of God. I tend to do a lot of this. My original illustration, the one I talked about at the beginning, would have made a wonderful segue into describing verses 15-17. I would have described how this biblical conflict resolution process works and how important it is to use it.

I would have said that those three verses show us how to make amends when a brother, fellow disciple, member of the church has sinned against you. It keeps it small and intimate until the whole church is involved and it does keep the sin within the church. What starts between the disciples should remain in the church.

It’s not bad as descriptions go; at least it wasn’t bad before I was reminded there’s something better.

The prescriptive interpretation of scripture does something different. The prescriptive interpretation doesn’t describe the text. Like a prescription helps make a sick body better, the prescriptive interpretation helps us use the text in our lives. It helps make us better disciples. A prescriptive interpretation of this scripture is the basis of that children’s sermon. The prescriptive interpretation reminds us that Christ makes amends for us and between us. Christ makes amends between us and our God.

Christ bridges the gap. Christ closes the chasms and schisms that are so old that we don’t remember their particulars anymore. Yes, we can remember broad brush strokes of the sins, but the details are gone like yesterday’s news.

The glory of this prescription is that while it is humanity’s first inclination to want to build walls between us, Christ will have nothing to do with that. When something comes between disciples, between brothers and sisters in Christ, our Lord is there building bridges instead of walls.

How wonderful is that? Our God saves! Even when we try to build walls God builds bridges and saves us from ourselves bringing us to reconciliation.

On Thursday, this was going through my mind as we were reading Matthew 18:15-20 in our study. On a side note, during the announcements Al always says that everyone is invited to join the study in the chapel at 10:00 Thursday mornings. As he has said, we read and we discuss, we listen and we pray. It’s not a lecture. Because of this, insights that are new (at least to me) and glorious are shared regularly.

One of the things that came up on Thursday was a wonderful and glorious interpretation that helps define church for all of us. One of the participants, Tom Malcolm, noted that in verse 20, Jesus says “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” Now, that’s nothing new, this is the kind of scripture that has helped define the church for nearly 2,000 years. What made this more special was how he related it to the first part of our reading.

He reminded us verse 15 begins, “If your brother sins against you…” and ends saying “between the two of you.” Friends, intelligence is often complex and complicated, but great wisdom often comes in the very simplest of words. Let me paraphrase the point made on Thursday. He told us verse 15 has two people, the sinner and the sinned against, when they come together in Jesus’ name, Christ is among them.

I love this insight. I absolutely love it. In verses 15-17, this is a particular brother member of the church, who was sinned against by another particular brother member of the church. They are disciples, but they are individuals.

In the last three verses, the “you” Jesus is talking about is the Church, his Church. The two in verse fifteen, by coming together in Jesus’ holy name come together as the Church, the capital “C” church. They don’t form a denomination or a congregation; they come together as members of the Body of Christ, they come together as the Church.

This is important for all of us; there are times when we do not agree with one another. There are times when people will be hurt by the actions of another member of the Body of Christ. There are times when members of the same denomination or congregation hurt one another.

So now not only do we have a scriptural conflict resolution process (and good, holy tools are never a bad thing), we have a savior who is the bridge between two in conflict. Even more so, when two parties are gathered in the name of the Lord, especially when it’s two members, one who has sinned against the other, Jesus promises he is there with them.

Then I read the article by Sherman Haywood Cox II on the difference between preaching and motivational speaking. He contends that a lot of preaching, popular preaching, what passes for relevant preaching, is nothing more than changing “the title from the latest pop-psychologist’s seminar from “how to succeed” to “how to fulfill God’s purpose” where God’s purpose is defined as “succeeding in this life.”[2]

He points out that hearing this kind of message may be helpful and useful, but it’s not the gospel. He laments that often this Gospel Lite is no more than learning “a skill or a mindset that will help [the listener] finally break the boundaries that keep them from that promotion.”[3] It’s nice, but it’s not the Good News.

He says that where good motivational speaking from the pulpit breaks down is that it lacks two things, the cross and the coming kingdom of God. He also tells preachers and other readers to beware. You have to beware of sticking Jesus on the end so that it sounds Christian. The cross is central, the cross is necessary.

This week’s edition of “Presbyterians Today” magazine includes an article called “Questions Muslims ask Christians.” One of the questions was “Why do you believe that Jesus suffered and died on the cross?”[4]

The answer begins reminding the reader that Muslims don’t consider Jesus the Son of God, though they consider him a great prophet and within their theology a Messiah. They also believe that God, the God of Abraham, would have never allowed the murder of such a great prophet. Another belief they don’t share is original sin, so they don’t share our concept of the sacrifice of the Lamb of God for the atonement of sin. No original sin, no need for the sacrifice.

From the pulpit I must proclaim and as disciples we must to live that through Christ’s death, even death on the cross, Jesus died for the sin of the world. Our Creator knew us so well that even before we were created there would have to be someone who would build bridges between us and God, between each of us and all of us. “Jesus humanity and suffering communicate the extraordinary lengths to which our Creator has gone to lavish extravagant love upon sinful humanity.”[5]

As I said, this sermon is not about you. One of the reasons I say this is because I remember when I was in my 20’s I began to wonder if my pastor wasn’t following me around all day so that he could say something from the pulpit on Sunday that was intended just for me. I knew this wasn’t true, but it was uncanny the way he seemed to fashion messages that directly convicted me.

I don’t want anyone to think that I am indicting someone about a particular situation. I’m not. But let me say this, this sermon is not about you but it is for all of us. It is for the church. It is for the disciples. It is for the people of God. If that convicts each of us and all of us, that’s as it should be.

We are called to remember it is our Lord who takes the wood of the cross and builds bridges so that we may be one as his Body, one in his Church. This is the coming of the kingdom on Earth. We are called to go across those bridges and seek those who have sinned against us, and those who we’ve sinned against. Once a bridge is built, we can’t make anyone walk across it, but Jesus knew that too. But we also know that when two or three come together, Christ is there with them, together in his name they are the Church. This is necessary because of our sin and this redemption is only possible through his life, death, and resurrection.

I could go on and describe this passage all day, but I would rather us use this as a prescription that brings the body together than share another description. Truly, this prescription for forgiveness is a tonic for the troops.

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[1] “Building Bridges,” http://sermons4kids.com/building_bridges.htm, retrieved August 31, 2011.

[2] “Are You a Preacher or a Motivational Speaker?” http://www.churchleaders.com/pastors/preaching-teaching/153625-are-you-a-preacher-or-motivational-speaker.html, retrieved September 1, 2011.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Perkins, Mitali, “Faith Seeking Understanding: Questions Muslims Ask Christians.” Presbyterians Today. Vol. 101, No. 7, September 2011, p 4.

[5] Ibid.