He Knew

This sermon was heard at The Federated Church in Weatherford, Oklahoma on Sunday August 14, 2016, the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Isaiah 5:1-7
Psalm 80:1-2, 8-18
Hebrews 11:29-12:2
Luke 12:49-56

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 haven’t watched a lot of TV lately, but I do see some. With some TV come some TV ads. Geico Insurance ads never fail to amuse me. The “...it’s what you do” campaign has been entertaining. One of the most recent is a band of pirates taking a British frigate. The pirate tells the captain what he’s going to do and his parrot repeats everything he says… and more.

“Let’s feed him to the sharks…”

“AWK, Let’s feed him to the sharks…”

“And take all of his gold…”

“AWK, and take all of his gold…”

Then the parrot keeps talking! “AWK, and hide it from the crew.” This is when the pirate crew stops in their tracks and gives their captain the stink-eye. “AWK, they’re all morons anyway.”

It’s damage control time for the captain, “I never said that.”

“They all smell bad too. AWK.”

This is when the pirate crew surrounds their captain who’s talking fast, “No, you all smell wonderful, I smell bad.” In the meantime, the British captain skirts away from his captors.

Then the voiceover says, “If you’re a parrot you repeat things, it’s what you do. Wanna save 15% or more on auto insurance…” and so on.

I love it when a plan comes together, then parrots repeat things. It’s what they do. There’s no reason we shouldn’t expect the unexpected, but we don’t. When the unexpected happens, everyone is in shock. This is our reading from Luke.

Over the past two weeks, we have read warnings and encouragements, the Parable of the Rich Fool, do not be afraid, and a treatise on watchfulness from Luke’s gospel. Today we read something completely unexpected, something never read in Sunday School. Today we read that Jesus comes not to bring peace but division.

This is not the Prince of Peace we’ll find at Advent. Frankly that Jesus is a lot more likeable.

Every week I begin worship saying “May the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all.” Every week I end worship saying “May the grace of God, the love of our Lord Jesus Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit be with you all.” It seems like nobody read this when putting together the liturgy. So we should ask, if what Jesus said is true, and we always begin there, then what does it mean?

Let’s go to the beginning of the reading, “I have come to bring fire on the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! But I have a baptism to undergo, and what constraint I am under until it is completed!” To find more on the Baptism of the Lord, let’s go back a little further.

In the third chapter of Luke we find John the Baptist in the wilderness, “The people were waiting expectantly and were all wondering in their hearts if John might possibly be the Messiah. John answered them all, ‘I baptize you with water. But one who is more powerful than I will come, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.’” When Jesus speaks of bringing fire, he’s simply reminding us of what John has already said. This isn’t anything new, but from the mouth of the Lord it sounds far more ominous.

Then Jesus speaks of his coming baptism, though he has already been baptized in the waters of the Jordan. There are many images wrapped around baptism, washing, cleansing, renewal, birth, life, new life; but one that often gets overlooked is death. Yes, death is found in the waters of baptism. Ask any sailor about the dangers and terror of the water and they’ll tell you death is a possibility. Jesus knows that he is on his way to his death, to his tomb. His death is as much a part of his baptism as his life. To teach this will take time, and he knows that he will be pressed for time.

He does not have much time to be with his apostles, his disciples, the people he calls his Body. He knows that time is short before this Earthly part of his mission will be completed, so yes, his time is constrained. This brings him distress. It is because he loves so much that he feels the pain of his limited time. He knows his time is limited and his work is eternal. So much to do, so little time.

Now let me ask this, is there anything particularly divisive in the Gospel? The gospel, it’s love. It’s grace. It’s peace. It’s service. It’s caring. There is sacrifice and that’s not anybody’s favorite, but we get grace and peace in exchange, definitely the better end of the deal.

Still Jesus knows people will make decisions about him. Who he is, his Lordship. Is he God? Is he a man? Is he perfect? Is he crazy? How do we follow him? Do we follow him? And every time people make one of these decisions about Jesus, it creates something of a theological crossroads. Some will go one way, some another.

As people make those decisions, Jesus knows what will happen next, division. This is why he says “Do you think I came to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but division.” It’s tempting to lay this indictment at the feet of those who do not believe in God, but this wasn’t who Jesus was talking to. He was talking to his people. He was talking to believers.

He knew how people would interpret his nature and his message would cause division. The first division was between the Jews and the Jewish Christians, the Jewish followers of Jesus, both followers of the Lord God, the God of Abraham. Their first decision was whether Jesus was the Messiah, the Christ, or not? This division was during his lifetime and led to his death.

Then came the division between the leaders of the Jewish Christians and the leaders of the Gentile Christians. The Jewish Christian leaders taught followers had to become a Jew before becoming a Christian. It made sense, Jesus was Jewish, most Christians were Jewish Christians. That turned out to be a stumbling block to the Gentiles so a council was held in about 50 AD, not twenty years after Jesus’ death. Acts 15 is where this council’s decision is reported and the division was made. In its wake came two branches, Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians.

Splits like these have been happening ever since. As for the denominations that form The Federated Church, five American denominations came out of the late 18th century movement that birthed the Disciples of Christ. Presbyterians take the cake. Presbyterianism in America dates back to 1706, but because of schism, reunification and schism again, there are ten branches of Presbyterians in America, the most recent schism in 2012. (Actually, I thought there were twelve.) As for the United Churches of Christ, in 1957 the Evangelical and Reformed Church and the General Council of the Congregational Christian Churches united to form the UCC. So in a world of division, there is hope.

So people love the gospel, even if we don’t believe the same things the same way. We received the gospel of love and grace and peace and service and caring and sacrifice and some things we don’t like as much. So it’s easy to see that there’s something for everybody to love and something for everybody not to love. So then what was Jesus trying to tell his disciples?

The Church (the capital C Church) must take heed. Some churches will say this scripture is about nonbelievers, but Jesus wasn’t talking to nonbelievers, he was talking to his children. The scandal is splits between believers; the division in the pews, and the witness that is to the world.

Next Jesus tells us the Body of Christ can’t say things like “Come join with us, not him, he doesn’t love Jesus like I love Jesus.” That sentence says one of two things. The first is that I love Jesus better than my neighbor; or the second my neighbor doesn’t love Jesus at all. This puts the speaker in the place of God, saying who is faithful and who is not.

So, we must remember in accepting the truth of the gospel, in sharing the gospel, in teaching the gospel, in living the gospel, not everybody is going to accept the Good News the same way if at all. Some will want to live by their old ways, but remember, we are reformed and always being reformed. God is continuously showing us new life. We are called to be faithful and follow.

Importantly, we have to realize since decisions about who is faithful and who is not aren’t up to us the subject and the object of our faith is the Triune God: Father, Son, and Spirit. When we make decisions about the gospel, and we will, divisions will be made. Let us pray our decisions are faithful.

Finally, this is the good news; God is faithful even when we are not. Our reading from Hebrews is known as the “Heroes of the Faith.” They were heroic because they were faithful. The scripture continues, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.”

Here is the hope for humanity: In Christ, by Christ, through Christ, the pioneer and perfecter of faith—one day all of the things that we let divide us, the things that seem so important, one day, because of Christ’s great love, none of these divisions will matter. Not one little bit. Jesus knew this.

He knew this all along.

Being Torn

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the First Sunday in Lent, March 1, 2009.

Genesis 9:8-17
Psalm 25:1-10
1 Peter 3:18-22
Mark 1:9-15

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

Today is the first Sunday of Lent, the first Sunday of a season of preparation and penitence, taking us seven weeks through the teaching and preaching of Jesus, moving to his triumphant entry into Jerusalem; his crucifixion and death; and his glorious resurrection.

Today we return to scripture we explored in other recent gospel readings. We begin with the Baptism of the Lord and the first proclamation of the Good News, the proclamation that this is the Son, the Beloved, with whom God is well pleased.

We have also looked at the last two verses of our reading as Jesus tells the world “The Kingdom of God is near. Repent and believe the good news.” In between is a piece that is always a part of the lectionary readings for the First Sunday in Lent, Christ’s temptation by Satan.

In the church, Lent is historically a season of preparation for baptism. So today we begin our reading with the baptism of the Lord. Jesus came to John and was baptized. Such a simple and wonderful vision; Jesus is dipped in the waters and after arising he sees the heavens split open. Then the spirit descends in the same way a dove descends and a voice from the heavens says “you are my Son, the Beloved, in you I am pleased.”

This reading gives us two contrasting visions; we have the gentleness of the spirit descending like a dove with the assuring voice from the heavens saying “you are my Son.” But this comfort is preceded by violence: the glorious and horrible vision of the heavens being split open. The word in Greek is the root of the word we use for someone whose psyche is torn and split into pieces, schizophrenia. This root is also where we get the word used to describe a church split, schism. When describing this splitting of the heavens, only Mark uses this word, the other synoptic gospels use a less violent one.

So in Mark’s gospel, the heavens are split, fractured. There is chaos again in creation not seen since the days of Noah when the flood began. But from this chaos comes the Spirit, descending like a dove despite the chaos in the heavens. From this chaos comes the voice of comfort, the voice of a parent calling a child, “you are mine, you are my Beloved, in you I am pleased.”

This tearing word is used in Mark’s gospel in one other place. When the curtain is torn in the temple, it is not just ripped, it is torn apart; it is ruptured with the power of the word from which we get the word scissor.

I find it amazing that on this First Sunday in Lent we find this verb of such violence tied so closely with such hope. With the splitting of the heavens is the coming of the Holy Spirit, the very Spirit of God descends through the chaos of division. With the curtain between the Holy of Holies being torn, the division between God and humanity is rendered moot. When the curtain is torn “the centurion, who stood facing Jesus, seeing him breathe his last said, ‘Truly this man was God's Son!’”[1]

This splitting, this tearing, this being torn was used in Mark’s gospel both at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry and at the end. That is the end as it is in Mark’s gospel before Jesus is entombed; the end before the resurrection; the end before the new beginning.

This word, schism, has great power. It has been thrown around by good Christians since the early days of the church. It has been a part of church life since Peter ate his first meal with the gentiles. It has been used since the days of the heretics and the Church Universal. It has been used since the split between the Roman and Greek Orthodox churches. It has been used since Henry VIII and Martin Luther. It has been used with John Calvin and John Knox. It is still bandied about today when talking about issues that threaten to divide the Presbyterian Church.

This is a hard word, a powerful word. It is the kind of word that once used is hard to turn back from. It is one of those words that when used in an argument takes everything to a new level, a level that can easily spiral out of control. It can become the point of no return in a relationship.

And it is this power that is exhibited for our favor, for our salvation in this reading. It is when the heavens are being torn asunder that the Spirit of God comes. In the midst of the chaos of the heavens torn apart comes the Holy Spirit in the nick of time.

In the Temple when the curtain, the one thing that separated God’s Holy resting place from the rest of the earth, when it is torn God is no longer contained. God demands entry into creation for the benefit of what God created.

It is what the prophet Isaiah asked for when he prayed “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence.” In the midst of violence and danger comes the grace and peace of the Lord.

The spirit that falls like a dove comes to us like the dove that returns to Noah on the ark with a leaf of an olive tree. With the chaos of the waters around Noah, there is a sign of life. After the world has been ripped asunder by the flood, God promises Noah that never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth. God creates this covenant with Noah by setting down a weapon, a bow.

God puts the bow in the clouds and when it is seen, God is reminded of this covenant. A covenant of faithfulness which is fulfilled in spite of the chaos of the tearing of the heavens, a covenant fulfilled by the descending of the Spirit and the life, death, and resurrection of the Son.

Death takes many forms in this existence. It kills not only life, but those things which make life sacred and meaningful, valuable and beautiful. Death takes many forms. There are fathers who die as fathers, because they are waiting until other obligations are less demanding before becoming acquainted with their sons. There are mothers who die because they sincerely intend to be more attentive to their daughters, but just can’t find the time. There are spouses who promise they will be more understanding toward each other but aren’t. There are people in this room who are alone and lonely, feeling friendless, seeking security and compassion, some are grieving.

The many forms of death; death can even tear apart a loving community. Death tears us apart. That’s what death is—a tearing apart. In the face of such deaths, what can we do to affirm the value of life? What can we do in the face of death except affirm the value of life? But how?[2]

Someone once asked John Wesley that suppose he were to know that he would die at 12:00 midnight the next day, how would he spend the intervening time. His reply: “Why just as I intend to spend it now. I would preach this evening at Gloucester, and again at five tomorrow morning; after that I would ride to Tewkesbury, preach in the afternoon, and meet the societies in the evening. I would then go to Rend Martin’s house, who expects to entertain me, talk and pray with the family as usual, retire to my room at 10 o’clock, commend myself to my heavenly father, lie down to rest and wake up in Glory”[3]

This is a wonderful and glorious story; Wesley had such a confidence in God, his vocation, and his response that he was ready to wake up in Glory at any moment. I read this story and am in awe of Wesley’s answer and his confidence. But as I read this, I see something more important; Wesley was more than prepared to die, he was prepared to live.

When are we going to live, knowing not that we’re going to die some day but knowing we are living? This is life! The sacred is here! Even with grief, struggle and suffering. And the whole living includes death and life, grief and joy.[4]

This power of God, the power of the Spirit upon Christ in the waters of his baptism, the power of God splitting the curtain while Jesus writhes upon the cross; these images of horror and death come with one great additional image, new life. Let us examine this moment in our lives. Let us look upon the danger and see not the death, but the new life in our Lord Jesus Christ.

[1] Mark 15:39
[2] Mark Allstrom, “Talking with Malachi,” March 24, 2002, Australia and New Zealand Unitarian Association Web Site, Anzua.org.
[3] Tan, Paul Lee; Encyclopedia of 7700 Illustrations, Signs of the Times. Assurance Publishers, R. R. Donnelley and Sons, Inc.: Chicago, 1979, Illustration #1500.
[4] Ibid, Allstrom