Temptation -- a Lectionary Meditation

Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7



Romans 5:12-19


Matthew 4:1-11

Temptation

“There are several good protections against temptation, but the surest is cowardice.” (Mark Twain)

Two stories of temptation lead off the Lenten journey, reminding us that temptation is an ever present challenge. Though, as Mark Twain notes, there are ways of dealing with temptation, the most effective being – run for the hills! Or better yet, never take risks, and you’ll not have to deal with problems such as this. But if we want to live fully and put ourselves in a position to grow and mature in our faith, then we must face the prospect of falling prey to temptation. It is, in fact, the central theme of the biblical story. Richard Rohr writes:

It is not that suffering or failure might happen, or that it will only happen to you if you are bad (which is what religious people often think), or that it will happen to the unfortunate, or to a few in other places, or that you can somehow by cleverness or righteousness avoid it. No, it will happen, and to you! Losing, failing, falling, sin, and the suffering that comes those experiences – all of this is a necessary and even good part of the human journey. [Richard Rohr, Falling Upward, (Jossey Bass, proof copy), p. xxii]

It is important that as we take in these stories that we not forget that falling down is part of the journey, but growth comes as we get up and move forward in the presence of God. In this week’s lectionary readings there are two stories of temptation – one referring to Adam and Eve and the other to Jesus. In the middle we come across Paul’s meditation on sin and redemption – through one man sin comes into the world, through the second man its effects are overcome. In Genesis God puts a tree into the middle of the garden and says – don’t eat or you’ll die. In Matthew, Jesus is baptized by John and then is immediately driven into the Wilderness by the Spirit so that he might be tested. Are we ready to be tested? That is the question.

In the first story God puts a man in the garden and tells him to till it and tend to it. He can eat of all the trees in the garden, except one, and if he eats of this Tree of Knowledge he’ll most assuredly die – though Genesis doesn’t tell us how this will occur (Gen. 2:15-17). But, as you read this warning, you have to know that something untoward is going to happen. You can’t put a tree in the middle of the garden that has really good looking fruit on it and then say – don’t eat. You know he’ll eventually bite into the fruit. With this warning in place, the lectionary guides have us skip over the section where God creates the woman as the man’s companion, and takes us to the encounter between the woman and the Serpent, who according to the writer of this text is the craftiest of God’s creations. Note here that the reference isn’t to the devil, though later interpretive tradition will make this connection. The Serpent says to the woman: “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden?” Of course, God didn’t say anything of the sort. God said you have all that you need, so stay away from that tree in the middle of the garden. If you eat it, you will die. The woman knows the truth and responds accordingly. But the key to the discussion is the suggestion by the Serpent that the reason God doesn’t want them to eat of the fruit is that upon eating it they will be like God, knowing both good and evil. The Serpent promised wisdom, but God asked for trust, trust that was quickly broken. And upon eating the fruit, the eyes of both are opened and they discover that they are naked, and so they cover themselves with fig leaves. Yes, shame enters the picture and the two whom God created to be companions are now alienated from each other. And as the story goes on, they hide even from God, suggesting that alienation from God had also crept into the picture. While we talk about sin here, the real issue is one of broken trust. But, as Rohr points out – that is part of life. The question is – how will we respond to the realities. Will we get back up and seek reconciliation? Will we allow that original trust to be restored?

Before we turn to Matthew’s temptation story, we turn to Romans 5, where Paul talks about the consequences of the man’s transgressions. Although the woman is often blamed for the Fall, Paul is of the mind (maybe it’s his chauvinism) that the man is responsible. Of course, Paul is also concerned about creating a parallel situation. Adam is seen as the one who breaks trust with God, and therefore allows for sin and death to enter the picture. The passage opens with one of the most pregnant verses in the New Testament. Taken literally it seems to give support to the doctrine of original sin. Paul writes that it was through a man (Adam) that death came into the world because of sin, and death spread to all humanity because all sinned. Paul is reaching back to Genesis 2-3, and offers his explanation as to why sin is so prevalent and why death is experienced by all. Because of Adam we all die, and the culprit has traditionally been seen as original sin. We sin because of Adam and we die because of him. It seems so genetic, but not so fast. Note that Paul says that death spread to all because all sinned, not because the man sinned. Sin was present since the beginning of human history – that is the implication of the text, and it has had devastating effects. It is also clear that sin is not simply disobedience of the Law, because sin and death existed prior to Moses.

The key point in all of this is the role that Adam (the man) plays in the story. Paul says that Adam is the type of the one to come. And while sin and death was introduced into the world through the actions of the first man, through the work of the second Adam (Christ) comes grace. Thus, if many die because of the first man’s sin (setting the world in motion toward disobedience), so in the second Adam’s obedience this is turned around. In a statement that almost sounds universalist in intent, Paul says that “because of the one man’s trespass, death exercised dominion through that one, much more surely will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness exercise dominion in life through one man, Jesus Christ (Rom. 5:17). We must face the reality of sin – however it may have come into the world – but the good news is that in Christ its effects have been overturned. Forgiveness is ours.

When we read Matthew’s Temptation story, it’s easy for us to discount the threat to Jesus’ identity. We just assume, or at least many assume, that Jesus is divine and therefore there’s really nothing to be concerned about. It’s all just a test, to which all the answers have already been given. There’s really no chance that Jesus would actually have failed or fallen. But if we take such a view. If there’s nothing really at risk in the incarnation, then what’s the point? Is it a mere exercise for our enjoyment? Is the devil too stupid to know that Jesus couldn’t fall, so God was having a good laugh? If these tests are real and God’s purpose could have been thwarted, then Jesus is – in Paul’s terms – the Second Adam. In his obedience he shows us the way to rebuild trust; how to walk in righteousness. But as the story goes, the devil gave it his best shot, but it wasn’t good enough. The temptations were truly seductive. Bread to end hunger; a spectacle to draw followers; rule over the world in exchange for a small bow. And yet in each case, Jesus stood strong in the Spirit. Jesus chooses to live by the words that come from the mouth of God; chooses not to put God to the test; and Jesus chose to worship God and not the devil. In the end the devil goes away, and the famished savior is tended to by the angels. It is in the obedience of the Second Adam that the disobedience of the First Adam is reversed. But obedience is more than playing it safe. Obedience involves taking necessary risks so that one might grow in faith and practice.

Temptation is part of life. We will fall, lest we believe that perfection is something to be guarded to such an extent that we’re not willing to live life in the presence of God. That is not, I believe, what God calls for us to do. It is in reality the way of death and not life. Let us then pursue God’s purpose for our lives, by living boldly in the world.

Transfigured and Transformed! -- A Sermon

Matthew 17:1-9

For the past several weeks we’ve been with Jesus on a mountain being instructed in the ways of God’s realm. This morning we’re taking a brief detour to another mountain, where Jesus’ identity is more fully revealed to us. In this scene from Matthew’s gospel we watch as Jesus is transfigured and transformed, so that we might see more fully the presence of God in him. As we attend to this story, it becomes clear that understanding the gospels requires a bit of an imagination. Without imagination you might end up doing what Jefferson did and start cutting out the parts of the gospel that don’t seem to make sense to the rational mind. Now, I’m a rather analytical, rationalist type, and so this takes some doing on my part. Since I’m not much into poetry (though I do love music) and I don’t read a lot of novels (though I do like movies), I struggle with poet W.H. Auden’s suggestion that Christians need to be poets. Although I struggle with this word of wisdom, I believe he’s right – If we’re going to understand and appreciate the story of the Transfiguration, we must trust our imaginations.

1. THE REVEALING OF AN IDENTITY

The story of the Transfiguration takes us to one of those “thin places” where the membrane separating heaven and earth becomes transparent and we can see the things of God more fully and clearly. In this story, we see Jesus unveiled. His full identity shines through, even if for only a moment.

If we go back a chapter, we’ll find the Disciples trying to answer the question of Jesus’ identity. Jesus asks them “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answers the question with the “Confession” that we make when we join with this assembly and are baptized into Christ: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” Peter makes this “Good Confession,” but we quickly learn that he doesn’t quite understand the meaning of his words.

Now, six days later, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up on a mountain where the question of identity is again raised, and to understand the meaning of this event we’ll need to look at reality a bit differently so that we can comprehend the glory and majesty of God who is present to us in Jesus. Writer Madeleine L'Engle, offers this poetic vision of the Transfiguration:

Suddenly they saw him the way he was,

the way he really was all the time,

although they had never seen it before,

the glory which blinds the everyday eye

and so becomes invisible. This is how

he was, radiant, brilliant, carrying joy

like a flaming sun in his hands.

This is the way he was -- is -- from the beginning,

and we cannot bear it. So he manned himself,

came manifest to us; and there on the mountain

they saw him, really saw him, saw his light.

We all know that if we really see him we die.

But isn't that what is required of us?

Then Perhaps, we will see each other, too.

[Madeleine L'Engle, Glimpses of Grace, (San Francisco: Harper-Collins, 1996), 64.

2. A TRIP TO ANOTHER MOUNTAIN

As we try to imagine the scene on the Mount of Transfiguration, it might be helpful to view a parallel scene in the Exodus story. As I read this passage consider the similarities and the differences in these two encounters with God.

The Lord said to Moses, “Come up to me on the mountain, and wait there; and I will give you the tablets of stone, with the law and the commandment, which I have written for their instruction.” So Moses set out with his assistant Joshua, and Moses went up into the mountain of God. To the elders he had said, “Wait here for us, until we come to you again; for Aaron and Hur are with you; whoever has a dispute may go to them.” Then Moses went up on the mountain, and the cloud covered the mountain. The glory of the Lord settled on Mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it for six days; on the seventh day he called to Moses out of the cloud. Now the appearance of the glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel. Moses entered the cloud, and went up on the mountain. Moses was on the mountain for forty days and forty nights. (Ex. 24:12-18 NRSV).

Later on in the Exodus story we learn that after Moses returned from the mountain with the Tablets of the Law, his face was so radiant from being in God’s presence that the Israelites were afraid to look at him, and so he veiled himself so that he could enter the community (Ex. 34: 29-35).

As I read these two stories together, what seems apparent is that Moses’ radiance is a reflection of encountering God’s presence in the cloud, but Jesus’ radiance comes before the appearance of the heavenly Cloud of Presence. Therefore, it’s not so much a reflection as an unveiling. Therefore, in that moment the Disciples catch a glimpse of Jesus’ full identity. Only then, do Moses and Elijah appear to Jesus, and in their appearance we envision representatives of the Law and the Prophets, who bear witness to Jesus’ mission.

3. PETER'S RESPONSE

At first Peter doesn’t know what to make of all of this. He reacts like many of us do when we’re around famous people or people we admire. He sort of makes a fool of himself. In trying to make sense of Peter’s response, an occasion comes to mind. While waiting with a family at a surgical waiting room in Santa Barbara, we discovered that actor John Cleese – of Monty Python and James Bond fame – was also present in the waiting room. You see, his wife was in surgery, and while our group recognized him, we didn’t bother him, but as always happens, somebody broke the rules. One woman just couldn’t help herself, and so she asked him for an autograph, which he of course refused. Our group lent a nod of understanding and support to his action, but I can understand how easy it is to get caught up in the moment when you’re around someone famous.

Peter was a bit like that autograph seeker when he realized that Moses and Elijah were present, and he just couldn’t contain himself. Overwhelmed, he blurts out:

"Lord this is wonderful! If you want me to, I'll make three shrines, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. (Matt. 17:4 NLT).

Although it’s not really clear what Peter intended by this offer, because the Greek word can be translated as both tent and shrine, it seems as if Peter had a shrine in mind. Moses and Elijah surely were worthy of a shrine, but now it seemed as if Jesus might be worthy of one as well.

But there is another side to this story. Thomas Keating, a Cistercian monk and writer, suggests that maybe Peter wanted to prolong the experience, and so he offered to build tents for the three men, whom he now recognizes as being transcendent beings.

If we perceive the divine presence in some facsimile of this clarity, we are fascinated, absorbed, and delighted. Peter's response was to want to stay there forever. The more profound the experience of union, the more one cannot help but wish to prolong it. [Thomas Keating, Reawakenings, (NY: Crossroads, 1992), 117.]

Like anyone who has experienced something as profound as an encounter with God, Peter lost all interest in the world below, and wanted to stay put. This is, of course, often true of our mountain top experiences. It’s hard to come down from the mountain. Moses experienced it, so did Peter.

4. THE VOICE OF GOD

Although Peter got caught up in the transformation of Jesus’ appearance and then Jesus’ conversation with Moses and Elijah, what happened next transcended even these two earlier events. Even as Peter made his offer to Jesus, a cloud descends on the mountain, and a voice from the cloud speaks words that readers of the Gospel first heard at the baptism of Jesus:

This is my beloved Son, and I am fully pleased with him. Listen to him (vs. 5 NLT).

As this voice echoes from the skies, Peter and his companions discover that Moses and Elijah have disappeared, leaving Jesus alone with them. This voice demanded that they listen to Jesus, because he is the one who will speak for God in this new age. He is the new law giver and the new prophet. As we ponder this scene, Thomas Keating again offers a helpful interpretation:

Listen not just to his words to which they had been listening when they were on the plain, but "listen to him," the divine person who is speaking to you. Listen to the divine presence that is incarnate in this human being. Listen to the infinite Silence out of which the incarnate Word emerges and to which it returns. (p. 118)

Having heard the voice of God, they fall on their faces in fear, but Jesus gently touches them and invites them to get up and not be afraid.

Having encountered the divine presence the three disciples follow Jesus down the mountain. They’ve experienced something too profound for word; something that they really can’t understand until after the resurrection. With that in mind, Jesus tells them not to talk about their experiences until after the resurrection. As Keating puts it: “There would be no point of talking about it because no one on the plain would understand unless they had climbed a similar mountain." (p. 119).

In Matthew’s story of the transfiguration, we receive an invitation to climb the mountain so that we too might be transformed by our encounter with God. In a moment we will gather at the Table, and we as break bread together we will encounter this presence, even as the disciples experienced it on the road to Emmaus – as Luke’s Gospel tells the story of the post-Resurrection unveiling of Jesus (Lk 24:13ff).

As we hear this story, may we let loose our imaginations, those precious gifts that allow us to see beyond what is rational, so that we might join Peter, James, and John, in seeing the fullness of God’s splendor revealed in the person of Jesus. Then we too will be transformed, as Paul puts it, by the renewing of our minds, so that we might discern the will and purpose of God (Rom. 12:2).

 

Preached by:

Dr. Robert D. Cornwall

Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

Troy, MI

Transfiguration Sunday

March 6, 2011

On the Mountain with God -- Lectionary Meditation

Exodus 24:12-18


2 Peter 1:16-21


Matthew 17:1-9

On the Mountain with God

I grew up in the shadow of the Cascade Mountains. From the age of 3 to 9 I lived at the foot of one of the great mountains in America, the majestic Mount Shasta, a 14,160 foot double coned volcano that exudes mystery. I never climbed Mount Shasta, but I have climbed a few other shorter Cascade peaks, and so I understand the draw that mountains can have on people. There is something powerful and awe-inspiring about standing at the top of the mountain and looking out across the landscape. You see the handiwork of God very differently from high up in the mountains, standing above tree-line, where nothing is able to take hold except a few of the hardiest plants. The air is thin, cold, and clear. You feel as if you can touch the sky and even reach through the thin membrane separating heaven and earth and touch the things of God.

From my own experience living among the mountains I can understand why people from time immemorial have gone to the mountains to encounter God. In the biblical story, we see people going to the mountain, from Moses to Elijah to Jesus, and there upon the mountains God is encountered, and lives are changed. In this week’s lectionary texts we go to the mountains to meet God. With Moses we go into the presence of God on Mt. Sinai, and with Jesus we go to the mountain where he is transfigured before our eyes and God speaks to him from the cloud of presence.

We begin with Moses who receives a call from God to go to the mountain and receive the tablets of the law, which God has written for their instruction. And so he takes Joshua, and after leaving Aaron and Hur in charge, heads for the mountain. As Moses climbs the mountain, a cloud begins to envelope it, so that the “Glory of the Lord settled upon Mount Sinai.” They wait, presumably on the edge of the cloud for six days. On the seventh day, with the Glory of the Lord sitting on the mountain having the appearance of a devouring fire, God invites Moses to enter the cloud. As I read this description I have in mind the forest fires I remember seeing coming down the side of Mount Shasta as a child. They were far enough away that I didn’t have to worry, but the flames were large enough to get your attention. You can imagine the feeling of the people down below. Moses and Joshua have gone up the mountain, which is now engulfed in flame. Will they ever return? What will happen to us? Yes, I can only imagine. But then, Moses went up into the cloud and ascended the mountain, and there he spent forty days and forty nights. With this the passage ends – though if you continue reading you discover that it is in this forty day period that God reveals to Moses God’s desires for the people of Israel. All the directions for the creation of the Tabernacle and ordination of priests and more are revealed, as Moses is with God on the mountain.

Most assuredly Moses is transformed by this encounter with God, though we later learn that when Moses emerges from the cloud his face shines so much that he must keep himself veiled. Paul suggests that over time the glow faded, but Moses kept the veil so as to cover up the loss of this sign of God’s presence.

2 Peter is one of those interesting texts. It claims to be written by one of Jesus’ closest friends and colleagues, though most scholars believe that it comes from a much later time, perhaps into the 2nd century. In this letter Peter writes that he was an eyewitness of God’s majesty and that of Jesus. We were there, he says, when God spoke: “This is my son, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Yes, we were with him on the mountain. So, listen to our testimony. Listen to our interpretation – for “no scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation.” Prophecies come not by human will, but by people moved by the Holy Spirit to speak for God. I think that the author of this letter is pulling something of a power play – I was there when God spoke to Jesus, therefore, listen to my interpretation of Scripture, for Scriptures aren’t the matter of one’s own interpretation. Still, despite this almost unseemly display, we hear in it a word of witness to the encounters the people of God have on the mountain, encounters that can be life changing.

Finally we come to Matthew’s account of the Transfiguration. Note that Jesus goes up the mountain after six days – is this reflective of Moses’ ascent to Mount Sinai? Of course, we need to go back a chapter to see that according to Matthew, it was six days earlier that Peter made the Good Confession, declaring that Jesus is the Christ/Messiah and Son of God (Mt. 16:16). Even as Moses took Joshua with him, Jesus took three of his closest associates – Peter, James, and John – with him up the mountain. There he was “transfigured” or transformed before their eyes so that his face shown like the sun and his clothes became a dazzling white. There is similarity to Moses’ encounter, but here, the transformation seems to be less a reflection of the encounter, but it emerges from within. It is, one could say, an unveiling of the glory of the Lord that is already present in Jesus. Then and only then do Moses and Elijah, representing the Law and the Prophets, appear and are seen talking with Jesus. It has been suggested that Moses and Elijah are seen here as transcendent beings, people who are caught up into heaven without dying.

Peter sees all this and being something of an impulsive sort (the reason we like him so much) decides he has to do something. So, he offers to set up tents for the three conversation partners – or perhaps these are designed to be shrines. He recognizes that something powerful is happening and that Jesus must be someone of transcendent importance if he is standing in the presence of Moses and Elijah.

It is at this moment that a cloud overshadows them – as on the Mountain of Sinai – and from the cloud comes a voice that states: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” Words that we the reader have encountered earlier in Matthew at the baptism of Jesus, but now they are repeated to fuller effect. At this the three disciples fall on their faces in fear. Jesus sees them, touches them (I find this to be a most poignant statement) and picks them up and tells them not to be afraid. Jesus does that a lot – telling his followers not to fear. It is at this point that they discover that Jesus is alone. Having had this encounter they head back down the mountain – not with stone tablets, but with a new sense of wonder and awe at the person they are called to accompany. For his part, Jesus tells them not to tell anyone about what happened on the mountain until after the Son of Man had been raised from the dead.

As we reflect on these three texts that depict powerful encounters with God, encounters that are transformative, it is appropriate for us to ask of ourselves – in what way are we transformed by our encounters with the transcendent God? What are our mountain top experiences? From the looks of the rest of Matthew’s narrative, the disciples still don’t understand, even after their mountain top experiences. Are we any different? Does the wonder begin to wear off once we're back into the thick of things?  Do we forget with whom we walk?  May we be thankful for God’s patience!

God is Holy so Love Others -- A Lectionary Meditation

Leviticus 19:1-2, 98-18



1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23


Matthew 5:38-48

God is Holy so Love Others

“You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am Holy.” That is the way the passage from Leviticus 19 begins. In Matthew 5, as this week’s passage from the Sermon on the Mount concludes, we read this admonition: “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (vs. 48). Are these two words of admonition all that different? Indeed, if you look closely, both passages cover similar ground. Both passages speak as well to loving one’s neighbor. In fact, in Matthew, Jesus extends this beyond the neighbor to the enemy. Paul’s word to us may not seem in line with these two admonitions, but perhaps his word concerning building a proper foundation comes into play. The wisdom of God is this: God is holy, so you must love that which is by God’s decree, deemed holy. We belong to Christ, and therefore his life and his witness is our guide to living life fully in the presence of God.

Too often we separate love and holiness from each other. God is either holy or God is loving, but not both. Our problem may be that we interpret one attribute as being open and the other restrictive, but since both are lifted up in Scripture as defining God’s nature, perhaps we need to consider how they might be related. And maybe the call to be holy and perfect in imitation of God, something that may run counter to human wisdom, could be closer in spirit than we may think.

We begin with this word from Leviticus 19, a set of teachings designed to equip the people to live holy lives. This is in essence a summary of Torah, and it is rooted in the premise that since God is Holy, God’s people should be holy. So, what does it mean that we should be holy?

The lectionary drops off a section that speaks to honoring parents, keeping the Sabbath, the worship of idols, and dietary guidelines. Then the text turns to other aspects of the call to holy living that speak to the way we interact with each other. The passage begins with a word to the farmers in our midst. When you harvest your grain, leave the grain on the edges of the field alone, and don’t gather the gleanings – but leave them be. And the same goes for the vineyard, don’t strip the vines bare and don’t pick up the grapes that fall to the ground in the harvesting process. Instead, whether it’s grain or grapes – leave them for the poor and the alien (the foreigner). Why? Because “I am the Lord your God”! I need to stop for  a moment to dwell on this admonition concerning the call to provide for the alien at a time when anti-immigrant fever is running high.  God doesn't distinguish between illegal or legal, for if the foreigner/alien is in need then the God who is holy says provide for their needs.

From there the text moves to matters of theft, dealing falsely, lying, and false oaths, stay clear of these for “I am the Lord.” Yes, and don’t defraud your neighbor or keep for yourself the wages of the laborer until morning – pay them promptly. And don’t revile the deaf or put obstacles in the way of the blind (pay attention to the ADA laws!) Why? Because “I am the Lord.” The text moves on to an admonition to treat everyone equitably, whether poor or rich. So, it is with justice that you should deal with your neighbor – don’t hate your kin, take vengeance, or bear a grudge. Instead, “love your neighbor as yourself.”

Each admonition in Leviticus, including the final one concerning love of neighbor begins with God’s holiness and the call for us to imitate that holiness. And as Ron Allen and Clark Williamson note, for the Rabbi’s the holiness of God that is illustrated in this passage is defined in Exodus 34:6.

The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. . .

From this powerful reminder as to the nature of God’s holiness we move to Paul’s meditation on God’s wisdom. As we have seen in earlier chapters of 1 Corinthians, Paul is concerned about worldly wisdom. God’s wisdom is rather different, sort of like God’s sense of holiness. He begins, however, with a word about foundations. He has, he suggests, laid a foundation upon which others have built (likely those in whose name members of this congregation were setting up parties). Ultimately, however, the point isn’t the builder but the foundation, and that is Christ. Starting with this foundation, he moves to the superstructure – the Temple of God. The Temple isn’t a building, but us. I’m wondering here if the word is given to us as individuals or to us as community. It’s not that I don’t believe that God inhabits us as individuals, but Paul seems pretty clear throughout 1 Corinthians that he is speaking to the community. Thus, it’s the community of the faithful who carry within itself the Holy Spirit of God. It is the community that is holy as a result! So don’t boast in our human leaders – ancient or modern – for everything belongs to the community itself because the community belongs to Christ, who belongs to God. Let us, then, embrace the wisdom of God, a wisdom that leads to holiness and love of neighbor.

Finally we come to the words of Jesus as found in Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount. There is a certain symmetry between this passage and Leviticus, as it should be. Jesus was not rejecting Torah nor does he suggest we should reject Torah – there is but one Word of God, even if it comes in two parts (and even that might be a debatable point).

The first half of the passage deals with matters of retaliation. While it has been said that taking an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth is appropriate, Jesus says – no instead don’t resist the one who would treat you in this way. Indeed, if someone strikes you on the right check, then offer the left. If someone takes your coat, offer your cloak. And, if someone forces you to go one mile, then go two. Now, the reality is this – such things might occur in the life of a person, especially if they were living under an occupying army that could pretty much do as they please. But, don’t take matters into your own hands, but instead leave it all to the hands of God. Such words of teaching have never found much of a hearing in the Christian community, and it’s no wonder. If you follow Jesus’ teaching your liable to experience being run over. It is a rather radical ethic, but it is rooted in the admonitions in Leviticus – be holy as God is holy. Do what is right and good, not because it is Law but because this is the way of God.

From this set of admonitions Jesus goes to the issue of love. Love of neighbor is a good starting point, Jesus says, but it’s not the end point. Instead, love your enemies and pray for the ones who persecute you (and that doesn’t mean praying that they’ll be taken out – what some call an imprecatory prayer that is possible in certain Christian circles). After all, the hated tax collectors take care of family and friends. Jesus’ ethic pushes further and deeper. In this context he is pushing us to embrace the form of love we know as agape, a form of love that according to Tom Oord involves “intentionally respond[ing] to promote overall well being when it encounters that which produces ill-being” (Oord, Nature of Love, p. 121). But remember, as you consider the admonition to love your enemy as well as your friends that God makes the sun rise on evil and good, and sends rain upon righteous and unrighteous.

Jesus wants people to understand that the ethic that permeates the realm of God moves us beyond normal behavior – what Paul might call worldly wisdom – to something different, something transformative. And that means being holy or perfect as God is holy and perfect. Jesus is our mentor, our guide, and our model, for what life looks like in the Realm of God. So why should we be holy and loving? The answer is simple – “For I am the Lord Your God!”

What DOES God Want? Lectionary Meditations

Micah 6:1-8



1 Corinthians 1:18-31


Matthew 5:1-12

What DOES God Want?

What is it that God wants from us? Is it our money? Our obeisance? Our unwavering belief in the Bible, without having any doubts whatsoever? Is it esoteric knowledge or hidden wisdom? Down through the centuries we have asked the question – what does God want? In the course of time, we’ve also been given lots of answers, some of which are conflicting and some to the minds of many, especially in this modern age, purely nonsensical. Consider the practice of child sacrifice – what kind of God would demand child sacrifice? (Oh, I may need to be careful with this one!) What of temple prostitution? Is God some kind of voyeur who needs to get sexually aroused to give us children or bless our fields? I realize that the Law offers strict guidelines as to which sacrifices should be offered, when they should be offered, and in what manner they should be offered, but the prophets all seem to be of one mind even though religious ritual and offerings of grain and oil and even the fatted calf might have their place, what really matters is that we act with justice, mercy, and loving kindness. Yes, God is less interested in our religious rites and more concerned with how we treat one another.

The three texts that stand before us this week, all of which in one way or another are well known to Christians, seeks to answer the question: What is it that God wants from us. Micah 6:8 is, of course, a favorite of the social justice crowd, while 1 Corinthians 1:18 would seem to speak to those who have put the atonement high on their list of important doctrines. As for the Beatitudes – shall we spiritualize them or should we understand that the poverty and the meekness, the persecution and grieving is all too real?

We begin this reflection with the reading from the Hebrew Bible. Its closing verse is well known to many Christians for it answers quite directly the question – what does God want? There in seemingly bold print, Micah 6:8 declares that God wants justice, mercy, kindness, and humility. But while this passage speaks powerfully to us, we need to hear it in context.

The prophet begins this chapter with a listing of God’s charges against Israel. God tells the people to plead their case before the mountains and the hills. Yes, God has a beef with you them. God says to the people with whom he’s in this dispute – How have I wearied you? What have I done to you that you respond this way? Don’t you remember that I brought you out of Egyptian slavery? Don’t you remember that when things were difficult I sent Moses, Aaron and Miriam to you? (I need to point out here the inclusion of Miriam). Remember how Balaam undermined Balaak of Moab’s plans against you? Do you remember? So, why are you not following my precepts?

The people respond – with what shall I come before you? Do you want burnt offerings? Do you want an offering of fatted calves? What about 1000 rams or 10,000 rivers of oil? Indeed, will an offering of my first born – the “fruit of my body for the sin of my soul” -- suffice to turn your anger from me? In other words, what religious rituals do you demand?

The response from God cuts in a very different direction – religious rituals and sacrificial offerings are irrelevant. Here is what the Lord wants from you – “to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.” This is all God asks – love your neighbor and you will show your love for God. And with this call I’m reminded of Tom Oord’s definition of love:

“To love is to act intentionally, in sympathetic/empathetic response to God, to promote overall well-being.” (The Nature of Love, p. 17).

What does God want from us? God wants us to be committed to promoting the overall well-being of the Creation.

In 1 Corinthians 1 Paul continues the conversation about what it is that God desires from us, though the language changes somewhat. Here the target isn’t religious ritual, but worldly wisdom. Paul speaks on behalf of God: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart” (1 Cor. 1:19). This is a passage that some, including me, will struggle with, for it seems to suggest that the Christian faith is anti-intellectual. That is, however, not what Paul would want us to hear (I don’t think – hopefully). Instead, he suggests that what the world considers foolish – the cross – God considers wise. He notes that while the Jews want signs and the Greeks wisdom, all Christians have to proclaim is the cross, which is a stumbling block to one group and foolishness to another. And yet, to those who wish to have their lives transformed, the message of the Cross is full of the power of God’s wisdom. You may not be powerful, you may not be strong, you may not be of high estate, but that need not be a problem, for God’s wisdom, strength, and stature is sufficient for righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. So, if you must boast, boast in the one who was crucified – the one who experienced complete powerlessness, and yet in this reveals the righteousness of God.

Finally we come to the Beatitudes, and return to the mountain. Jesus is depicted here in this moment as the new law-giver, the new Moses, the one who brings God’s directives to humanity. In Micah, the people are commanded to make their defense to the mountains, and here the mountains bear witness to God’s new word. Actually it’s not a new word, but a reaffirmation and reapplying of God’s longstanding commitment to the well-being of the creation. Now, we can, if we wish, spiritualize these first statements of blessings into the “Be Happy Attitudes,” but to turn these into expressions of positive confession would be a mistake. It would also be a mistake to turn these blessings into requirements – so that we must earn God’s blessings by experiencing poverty and grief, persecution and humiliation. It is not something that we pursue, as if we’re seeking after martyrdom, but it is a description of reality in the world. As God engages this world, Jesus promises us that God has chosen to bless those whom society relegates to the sidelines (at best).

The blessings that Matthew presents are the gifts of God bestowed on those who are not rich and powerful in this life. It is a statement that in contrast to the way the world usually works; God isn’t inclined to bless the strong and the powerful, the acquisitive and the violent. But instead, God reaches out to bless the poor and the meek, those who mourn and those hunger and thirst for justice, the merciful, pure in heart and those who seek to be peacemakers, those who are persecuted – whether for righteousness or for the sake of the Christ. And the blessings are all wrapped up in experiencing firsthand the realm of God. The phrase in Matthew is Kingdom of Heaven, but we make a mistake if we assume that these blessings of the Kingdom are reserved for some other life, beyond this one. Consider the promise that the meek “will inherit the earth.” And if we understand the prayer Jesus taught the disciples, God’s will is being done on earth as in heaven – there is therefore no bifurcation between the two. To follow Jesus is not an opiate, but a call to live out the new law of love that Jesus is revealing from the mountain of God. But remember, walking humbly with God means that suffering may likely continue. There may be blessing and happiness, but it is to be found in the midst of this life, with its suffering, even as we work to transform the world in which we find ourselves? For as Jesus says, if you’re persecuted, remember that you stand in a long line of those who have experienced persecution, a line that takes you back to the prophets of old. .

So what DOES God want? God wants us to remember that we live in a world that is filled with suffering and injustice and unhappiness, and God wishes us to devote our lives to transforming this reality. Thich Nhat Hanh, the Buddhist monk who has thought deeply about the relationship of the Buddha and Jesus points out that both the Buddha and Jesus understood that life involved suffering, and that both sought to provide a way out of it. He writes:

We too must learn to live in ways that reduce the world’s suffering. Suffering is always there, around us and inside us, and we have to find ways that alleviate the suffering and transform it into well-being and peace. (Living Buddha, Living Christ, Riverhead Books, 1995, pp. 48-49).

 

In this we will find blessings, for that is the promise of God, who has been revealed to us in the crucified one – Jesus the Christ.

Sunday Sermon: Heed the Call

Jesus Christ was approximately 30 years old, and he was ready to step from the shadows of a life which to that stage had been lived in relative anonymity. He had learned of the fate of his cousin, John 'the Baptist', and decided that it was time for he himself to begin a public ministry. It was what he had waited his whole life to do. It was the entire reason for his being alive.

Jesus knew as he began that he would need to start somewhere. And so he set out along the edge of the waters of the sea of Galilee, beginning to spread there a message" that the people should "repent, for the kingdom of Heaven is at hand."

As he made those first tentative public speeches and teachings, he was mostly alone, and he quickly came to realize that he needed help. He needed people to help him travel, to organize, to simply be his companions on the journey.

Walking along the edge of the Galilean sea he observed two brothers named Simon and Andrew, and he began to talk with them. He talked and taught, telling the brothers "Follow me, and I will make you fisher's of men!" His divine inspiration was so great that the brothers left behind their nets and began to follow Jesus.

The trio moved along the sea a bit and came upon the fishing ship of a man named Zebedee. Tending the nets with their father were his two sons, James and John, and Jesus again began to speak to the men and called on them to join him, which they did. From this humble beginning has arisen the greatest church in the history of the world.
 The very church of the one true God Himself, founded by His only son.

That very first man he had called, the brother once named Simon, had his name changed by Christ prior to his own death to "Peter". Jesus turned over the church to this man saying "You are Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever you shall bind upon earth, it shall be bound also in heaven, and whatsoever you shall loose upon earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven."

These men were just the first to be called by Christ to his ministry. The first to be asked to hear him, to listen to the message from God, to have faith, and to lay aside all they thought that they had previously known in order to follow Jesus. More would follow. First by the few, then by the dozens, ultimately by the hundreds and by the thousands. Over the course of human history, the same exact call would go out to billions.

A Pharisee named Saul was one that was called in those early years. It was after the crucifixtion of Jesus that his disciples were first trying to spread his word as a group which had become known as "The Way". Saul zealously persecuted Jesus' followers, and in the continuation of this effort was on his way from Jerusalem to Damascus.

On the road to Damascus, Jesus suddenly appeared to Saul and called to him: "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" Saul asked who was speaking, and Jesus replied: "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what to do." Saul ultimately heeded the call, changed his name to 'Paul', and along with Peter became one of the Founding Father's of the church.

But just as human death did not stop Jesus from calling people like Paul, neither has the passage of time stopped people from being called. You are called.

That's right, you reading this right now.  The simple fact is that we are all called by the Lord to hear his word and to yield our lives to him. Every single person reading this has heard of Jesus Christ. Every single person reading this knows exactly what Jesus claimed to be: the Truth. The one true way.

In Jesus own words we find the single most important call that any of us have ever received in our lives, and make no mistake, we have all received this call. Jesus himself said: "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one can come to the Father except through me."

You have been called. Have you heeded his call? If you have, congratulations brother or sister. Continue in your own personal journey during this life in trying to live as he would wish you to live. You will never reach perfection. You will stumble and fall and sin many times, for you are human. But you have heeded the call, accepted the truth, and will be rewarded.

Others of you have not heeded the call. You have either hesitated, or you have outright turned away from the truth. If you are reading this, you still have time to make the single most important choice that you will make in your life here on earth. You still have the choice to heed Jesus' call, to accept the truth, and to begin to try to follow the way as best you can.

From that first day along the sea of Galilee when Jesus called a quartet of fishermen to become fishers of men, the call has continued to ring out around the world. It has reached your ears. The next step is yours. If you are my family member or my friend, if you in any way have impacted my life, I am reaching out to you right now, personally. Heed the call. God bless you.

NOTE: this is the continuation of the Sunday Sermon series of articles that appear regularly at the www.mattveasey.com website, all items in which can be read by clicking on that label link found below here at the website

Behold the Lamb of God -- A Sermon

John 1:29-42

In the final scene of Jesus’ trial before Pilate, as John tells the story, the Roman Governor turns to the people, and says, “Behold the Man” (Jn. 19:5 KJV). Or, as the Latin Vulgate renders it: “Ecce Homo.”

This phrase loses something in its modern renditions. “Here is the man” doesn’t carry near the power of “Behold the Man.” When you hear this phrase in the King James, you can feel the tension in the crowd. There he is, the governor, standing before the people, holding in his hands the power of life and death, and turning to the people, as if he’s presiding over the arena and inviting them to decide: Thumbs up or thumbs down? Which is it?

It is only the Second Sunday after Epiphany, and we’re still contemplating the revelation of God’s presence in the world. Good Friday seems so far off, and yet this Good Friday scene stands behind the testimony of John the Baptist. Even as Pilate shouts out with all the imperial might behind him – “Behold the Man” – the Baptizer also points to Jesus and says “Behold, the lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world.” Again, I use the King James, because it adds drama to this testimony.

Both the Baptizer and Pilate bear witness to the centrality of Jesus to the mission of God. Here in our text this morning, we hear John call out: There is the Lamb of God. He is the one we’ve been waiting for. He’s the one who bears the Spirit of God, the one who existed before me, and therefore, is greater than me. My ministry, the Baptizer says, must now recede into the background, as Jesus picks up God’s mantle. He is, as Isaiah proclaims, the servant of God who not only redeems Israel, but offers “a light to the nations, so that [God’s] salvation may reach to the ends of the earth” (Is. 49:6).

Because God’s presence has been made manifest in our midst, we are invited to join the Baptizer and even Pilate in bearing witness to this light that’s shining in the darkness. With them, we can declare to the world – “Behold, the Lamb of God.”

1. THE PASSOVER LAMB REVEALED

When we hear John the Baptist speak of the Lamb of God, what comes to mind? Does your mind go to Psalm 23, where the Good Shepherd brings the sheep safely through the dark valleys into the safety of the meadow? Or, do you think of the parable, where the Good Shepherd goes off looking for the lost lamb and then brings it back to the safety of the flock? These are comforting images that are deeply ingrained in our minds and hearts, because they speak of God’s compassionate care for the people of God. But these aren’t the images present in this particular case. No, when John points out Jesus and calls him the Lamb of God, he has in mind the Passover Lamb, which is sacrificed as a reminder that God spared the Hebrews so that they might become the people of God.

So, when John points out Jesus and calls him the “Lamb of God,” he want us to understand that Jesus is the one whose sacrifice provides the way of salvation. This might be a disturbing image for some, even though it’s long been part of the Christian testimony that stands behind our Table Fellowship. We come to the Table each week to take part in the Passover celebration, knowing that Jesus is the Passover Lamb through whom we are made one with God.

You can see how John’s witness ties together with Pilate’s. Both are saying something similar – here is the one whom God has chosen to be the Passover Sacrifice, and in John’s theology, this is a sacrifice of atonement. That is, through his death, Jesus brings God and humanity back together into a relationship that had been damaged by human sin. Or, as we read 1 Peter 1, Jesus is the one who ransoms us from the evil one by offering his precious blood, “like that of a lamb without defect or blemish" (1 Pet. 1:18-19).

Although we don’t have time to go into depth here about what this means, I need to say up front, that we must let go of the idea that Jesus dies on the cross to appease the wrath of God, even if that is an image that has been passed down through time. But if Jesus doesn’t appease God’s wrath through his death on the cross, then how should we understand this image of the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world?

2. THE SUFFERING SERVANT

One way to interpret this text is to go back to the Suffering Servant passages of Isaiah. In Isaiah 53, the prophet speaks of the innocent one, who like a silent lamb is led to slaughter. He becomes, the prophet writes, a sin offering for us, so that through his righteousness, the many are made righteous, and the Servant does this by making intercession for the transgressors.

In context, the prophet is speaking of the Jewish people who suffered greatly during the exile, but out of this exile God forged a new people. The alienation that existed before the exile is taken away, so that a new relationship can emerge. And so, Jesus doesn’t die to appease God’s wrath, but instead he dies because we lay our own iniquities upon him. We make him, to change the image slightly, the scape goat, who carries our transgressions, and in the midst of this, the Lamb of God intercedes for us, that we might be reconciled with God and with one another.

3. FOLLOWING THE LAMB

If we will receive this word from John that the Lamb of God is present with us, seeking to restore our relationship with God and with one another, even if we struggle with some of the language, how then should we respond?

The answer, I believe, comes in the closing verses of our text. The Baptizer points Jesus out to two of his disciples. He tells them – there’s the Lamb of God, the one we’ve been waiting for, and without asking for permission, these two disciples leave John behind and go to Jesus.

One of these two disciples of John is Andrew, the brother of Simon, who quickly realizes that his old team is folding and he needs to join the new one. There is no time to waste, and when he comes to Jesus, he asks: Where are you staying? Jesus knows that Andrew isn’t just curious about where the Lamb of God lives, and so he responds: “Come and see” where I am staying. That is, come and join with me in the work of God, and Andrew, who is the patron saint of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) – so to speak – joins with his still unnamed companion in following Jesus. But this isn’t the end of the story.

You see, Andrew has a bit of witnessing to do himself. Having seen the light, he goes and gets his brother and says – “We’ve found the Messiah.” And so Simon follows his brother’s lead, and comes to Jesus, who says to Simon: Your name was Simon, but now it will be Cephas or Peter. Because you have chosen to follow me, you will have a new identity. It’s interesting that in John’s gospel, it’s Andrew who makes the good confession, but it’s Peter who gets the call.

What then does it mean for us to hear the Baptist’s witness? Will we join Andrew and Simon in following Jesus? And if so, what does it mean for us to join up with the Lamb of God?

Could it mean that God is calling on us to follow in the footsteps of the Lamb of God and lay down our lives for our neighbors? And if so, what does that mean? What I hear in this call of God is an invitation to experience “agape love,” as it’s defined by theologian Tom Oord. He defines agape as “acting intentionally, in response to God and others, to promote overall well-being in response to that which produces ill-being.” That is, “in spite of the evil done, agape responds by promoting good.” Therefore, even though the death of Jesus results from an evil act, God has chosen to use this act to promote that which is good. (Thomas Jay Oord, The Nature of Love: A Theology, Chalice, 2010, p. 56).

In trying to understand what this means for us, I think it’s appropriate that this is Martin Luther King Weekend. Dr. King was a prophet, whose tragic death at the hands of an assassin, issued in a call for the people of America to tear down the walls that divide us – whether these walls are defined by ethnicity, color, or poverty. Dr. King seemed to understand what it meant to be a follower of the Lamb of God, and he also understood that if he continued in his ministry of reconciliation, his life might be taken. But he was willing to take that risk, because he understood that this is the way of Christ, the Lamb of God. Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador, who was murdered while celebrating Mass in his Cathedral is another person who bears witness in his own life to the reconciling presence of the Lamb of God, who take away the sins of the World. Dr. King, Archbishop Romero, Andrew and Peter, all understood what it meant to walk in the footsteps of the Lamb of God, and in doing so, they too became suffering servants in whom the Light of God shines brightly in the world.

As Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who himself experienced suffering and death in service to his Lord, put it "when Christ calls, he bids us come and die." What then does it mean to testify to the one who is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world? Perhaps our response should be that expressed in the Episcopal liturgy of my youth. After the priest consecrated the bread and broke it, the priest would lift up the broken bread and say: “Christ our Passover has been Sacrificed,” and we would respond: “Alleluia, Christ our Passover has been sacrificed for us! Alleluia.” In making this statement, we recognize that we who have experienced estrangement from God and from one another, have been reconciled through the Christ, who is our Passover Lamb. Therefore we can shout “Alleluia.”

 

 

Preached by:

Dr. Robert D. Cornwall

Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

Troy, Michigan

2nd Sunday after Epiphany

January 16, 2010

The Lord's Prayer: Praying for the Kingdom

The second excerpt from my book Ultimate Allegiance: The Subversive Nature of the Lord's Prayer (Energion Publications, 2010), has appeared at EthicsDaily.com.  I invite you to check out the excerpt -- read the complete piece at EthicsDaily, and then return to offer your thoughts.   Oh, and I won't be disappointed if you decide to buy a copy!

*********************************

The Lord's Prayer: Praying for the Kingdom

By: Bob Cornwall

Posted: Monday, January 10, 2011 5:38 am

The Lord's Prayer, as Matthew presents it, asks that God's kingdom would come, as God's will is done on earth as it is done in heaven. What happens on earth, Jesus suggests, mirrors what is happening in the heavens.

It would seem that as we make this prayer to God, we are recognizing that with the incarnation, the kingdom of God has taken root in this world. As Jesus puts it, the kingdom is in our midst.

If we believe that the kingdom of God is more than getting into the next life, so that the kingdom has "this world" implications, then what is it that we're requesting of God? What is the nature of this kingdom that we're asking God to reveal in our midst?

As we consider these questions, it's important to remember that the kingdom isn't a minor focus. It is instead the focus of Jesus' ministry. Everything he did, whether he was teaching or healing, revealed to the world the nature of God's reign. Therefore, it shouldn't surprise us that this petition stands at the very heart of this prayer.  (To continue reading click here. 

***************

For more information about the book, or to purchase a copy, click here to go to the publisher's catalog page.   

The Servant's Call -- A Sermon

Matthew 3:13-17, Isaiah 42:1-9

What is your calling in life? That is, who are you at your core? And how do you know this to be true? What were the signs that confirmed this sense of calling or vocation? Pushing this even further – Where does God fit into your sense of vocation?

There are those, mostly hyper-Calvinists, who believe that God plans every moment of our lives, while others believe that God doesn’t play any role at all – it’s all up to you. I imagine that most of us fall somewhere in between these two extremes. We believe that God is present in our lives, guiding our choices, but we also believe that we have freedom to choose. So, given this freedom, how do you discern God’s call on your life? How do you know when God takes delight in what you’re doing with your life?

1. Epiphany, Baptism, and the Call of Jesus

I raise these questions with you as we begin our observance of the season of Epiphany. This is a season that allows us to acknowledge the light of God, which has been manifested in our world through the life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth. The journey actually began Thursday, January 6, which marks the Day of Epiphany. In most Eastern Christian traditions, January 6 is actually Christmas Day. But for us, Western Christians, January 6 marks the end of Christmas, and the beginning of a new season of the Christian year. Epiphany begins with the story of the Magi, who bring gifts to the child Jesus, in acknowledgment that God has chosen him for a specific task – to be the light of God in the world.

Now, we’ve decided to leave up the Christmas Tree for one more service. I will admit that there’s a practical reason – we simply didn’t get around to taking it down. But this fact gave me an idea. By leaving the tree up and lit, we remind ourselves that the one whose life we honor in this season of Epiphany is the light-bearer of God. Jesus is the one whom God has chosen to make God’s self manifest in the world. Last week the text for the day was John 1, which declares that “the Word (of God) became flesh and dwelt among us” (Jn. 1:14). Now we get to see how this Word made flesh reveals God to us in the life of Jesus. So, the tree remains up, and the lights remain on, but at the end of the service, Pat will pull the plug on the tree, and the lights will go out. But do not fear, even though the tree grows dim, the light of God is not extinguished. We become the light bearers.

But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, for we must hear the story of Jesus’ own call, which is set in the context of John’s ministry of baptism. In the verses that precede our text, we discover that God has called John to prepare the way for the Lord, who is to come baptizing not with water of repentance, as does John, but with Holy Spirit and Fire. That is, he’s called to prepare the way for the one who, to borrow from John Dominic Crossan, will introduce the “Great Divine Cleanup of the World,” or as it’s better known – the Kingdom of God.

To understand this morning’s text, we need to understand that John is waiting expectantly for the Promised One to be revealed, and so he’s taken aback when Jesus comes to him and asks to be baptized. You see, John immediately recognizes Jesus to be the one he’s been preparing the nation to receive. Although John initially refuses, he relents when Jesus tells him that this is what God desires, so that they would fulfill all righteousness. Then, as Jesus emerges from the waters of the Jordan, he hears God speak from the heavens: “This is my son, the Beloved, with whom I’m pleased.” In that moment, Jesus had his calling affirmed and sealed.

I don’t know how many of you have heard God’s voice speaking from the heavens during your baptism, but perhaps even without this your baptism serves as the sign and seal that God has called you, gifted you, and empowered you, to join with God in this “Great Divine Cleanup” that Jesus proclaimed and lived.

2. The One In Whom God Delights

As we consider Jesus’ calling, as well as our own, I’d like us to consider the words of Isaiah 42, a passage of scripture that comes from the time of the Babylonian exile. The prophet speaks of the Servant, in whom God takes delight, and whom God has chosen to receive the Spirit and bring justice to the nations (Is. 42:1). In many ways Isaiah 42 stands behind Matthew’s description of Jesus’ baptism. Remember that Matthew makes it clear that the Spirit of God fell on Jesus, the one whom God calls “my Son” and with whom God is “pleased.” He is the one, as Luke makes clear, whom God has called to bring justice and healing to the nations (Luke 4:18-19). That is, the one in whom God delights is the one who has received the Spirit and brings a light to the nations, opens the eyes of the blind, and brings the prisoners out of their dungeons of darkness. And what is true of the Servant called Jesus, would seem to be true of those who seek to be his followers.

3. The Way of the Servant

I began this sermon by asking the question – what is your calling in life and how do you know this to be true? If, as our texts suggest, we are called to be Servants of God, what does that mean for our lives?

Isaiah suggests that the way of the servant is the way of humility, of peace, and justice. The servant of God doesn’t bark angrily in the streets or even quench a dimly burning wick, but instead brings “full justice to all who have been wronged" (NLT). And Jesus offers us the model of what this calling looks like. As we look at his life and listen to his teachings, we see a man who didn’t force himself on others, didn’t seek political or military power, nor did he trod underfoot the powerless in this world.

If Jesus manifests God’s presence in the world, as the season of Epiphany suggests, then the picture of God that emerges from the life and ministry of Jesus is very different from the distant, unfeeling, self-absorbed God that many of us grew up with. This is not the God whose anger at humanity is expressed through thunder and lightening, earthquakes and floods. Instead of an imperial deity, like the one Constantine envisioned blessing his conquests, the God we meet in Jesus is the fellow sufferer who walks by our side, encouraging us, empowering us, and gifting us. I realize that many people aren’t comfortable with this kind of God, because such a God seems too weak and not worthy of our praise. But, this is the God whom Jesus envisions and reveals in his own life, and he invites us to join in this life of God

As we think of people who have tried to live out this kind of servanthood that Isaiah and Jesus envisioned, perhaps there’s no better example than Henri Nouwen. Nouwen would be the first to say that he wasn’t perfect and might not want to be pictured as an exemplar of the way of the servant. But, what can we say about a man who was a well-known and respected theologian, academic, writer, lecturer, but who in the prime of his career left an important academic post at Yale University to serve the mentally disabled. Yes, this is the way of the servant.

4. The Call to Servanthood

In our baptisms we, like Jesus, receive our calling to be servants of God, who are given the responsibility to “bring forth justice to the nations.” If we will take up this mantle, then we’ll receive the promised Spirit of God, who will not allow us to “grow faint or be crushed” until “justice is established in the earth” (Is. 42:4). If we take up this calling to be God’s servants then we’ll participate in God’s work of bringing light to the nations, open the eyes of the blind, and bring those who are caught in darkness out of their imprisonment.

Before I close this sermon with a call to remember our own callings, I need to remind us all of the tragic events of yesterday in Tucson, Arizona. As most of you know, a gunman shot and nearly killed Gabrielle Giffords, a Congresswoman from Arizona, at a meet the constituents event at a local Safeway, something she has done regularly. Although it appears that she’ll make it, several others in the crowd, including one of her aids, a Federal judge, and a nine-year old child were killed, and several more were wounded. This act of violence is a reminder that we have much work to do to restore a sense of civility to our rhetoric and end the threat violence in our land.

The way of the Servant, which leads to transforming the world, isn’t an easy calling, especially in times like this. Remember, however, that Jesus did say that the way of God is narrow and difficult. So the question of the day is this: Having been baptized into the Name of Jesus, are you ready and willing to affirm your calling to be a servant of God? Does this calling define your sense of who you are as a person? And to push this further, is this our calling as a church? That is, is this our mission – to be beacons of light in the world so that the justice and peace of the God who is love might reign?

 

Preached by:

Dr. Robert D. Cornwall

Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

Troy, Michigan

1st Sunday after Epiphany

January 9, 2010

The Spirit of Justice -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 42:1-9


Acts 10:34-43

Matthew 3:13-17

The Spirit of Justice

As we begin the season of Epiphany, which celebrates the coming of God’s light and revelation into the World, we are called upon to contemplate the ways in which God has enlightened us through the life and ministry of Jesus. The texts for the day of Epiphany include the story of the Magi who followed a star to the home of Jesus, whose own family had to flee from the oppressive forces of Herod, who sought to destroy a perceived threat – a sort of preemptive strike. As we turn to the texts for the first Sunday after Epiphany, the gospel brings us forward into time. The one whose family fled in the face of human violence had come to the Jordan to be baptized, and in the course of this event the Holy Spirit of God fell upon this man from Galilee. As a result, Jesus becomes the means through which and in which God brings light into the world and makes known God’s purpose and nature.

If light is a key theme for the season of Epiphany, one of the primary biblical themes is that of justice, and justice is part of this set of texts as well. The word justice appears regularly in Scripture, especially in the words of the Prophets. Its sort of odd that a TV personality would condemn churches for embracing the message of social justice since its so prevalent in the biblical text. But, perhaps the problem is that many in our society have forgotten the biblical mandates. It’s also possible that they misunderstand the nature of justice in its biblical context.

Most Americans think of justice in terms of law enforcement – of keeping criminals locked up. It’s telling that the Secretary of Justice is also the “Chief Law Enforcement” officer in the country. Although this department deals with issues that fall under the rubric social justice – things like equal opportunity – we usually think in terms of other kinds of justice – what some call retributive justice (punishment) rather than distributive justice, which deals with the way widows and orphans and the poor are treated. It is an implementation of God’s vision of equity, which means more than simply “getting what you deserve.” Surely, grace factors in here at some point.

As we contemplate God’s vision for the world, which is embodied in the one upon whom the Spirit of God fell during his baptism, anointing him the servant of God, we contemplate God’s justice and righteousness.

Our lectionary journey begins in Isaiah 42, a powerful text written during the period of the exile, by a prophet who announces the coming of the servant of God, the one in whom God has chosen to take delight. The servant isn’t identified by the prophet, which has led to much interpretive speculation. Suggestions as the identity of this prophet depend in part on one’s theology and faith tradition, whether you are Jewish or Christian, but they range from the prophet himself, to Israel, and from Jesus to Paul, Paul comes into play because the Servant is said to be a light to the Gentiles. There is still another possibility, which would involve “everyone who loves and trusts the Lord,” for thus “has assumed the task assigned to God’s servant in this passage” (Ronald Allen & Clark Williamson, Preaching the Old Testament, p. 16). As Ron Allen and Clark Williamson point out, any of these five identifications is appropriate, as long as we allow room for the others to be possible in their own way.

Upon this servant of God falls the Spirit who brings justice to the nations, and does so without faltering or discouragement. This text should be familiar to anyone who has read the Gospel of Luke, for in Luke, Jesus reads and interprets this passage as defining his own calling as God’s servant. God makes a covenant with this person (people), calling on them to be “a light for the gentiles, to open the eyes of the blind to free the captives from prison, and to release from the dungeons those who sit in darkness” (Is. 43:6-7 NIV 2010).

The justice spoken of here is not one that comes at the point of a sword or through coercion, but with humility and grace. This demeanor is defined in the opening lines of our passage, where we’re told that the Spirit-empowered servant doesn’t raise a voice or shout in the streets or even break a smoldering wick, but is instead one like a bruised reed. The justice that this servant brings is, as Allen and Williamson remind us, a “kindhearted justice.” They note further:

Some of the greatest injustices of history have been carried out by those in pursuit of a dream of absolute justice. Millions of people have died at the hands of those pursuing the classless society, a manifest destiny, or some idealistic political or economic vision of one kind or another. All our religious traditions have profaned the concept of God’s justice, Christians particularly in wars that they declared either just or holy, such as the Crusades or the wars of religion from 1618 to 1648. But God’s justice is justice on behalf of God’s children; it is like a mother whose love for her children leads her to seek justice for them. It is the justice of YHWH’s tender love (Allen & Williamson, pp. 16-17).

And so, we look forward to the fulfillment of God’s justice, which we have been called upon to embody as followers of the one who is baptized in fulfillment of God’s righteousness.

From Isaiah’s brilliant vision, we turn to Peter’s confession that “God does not show favoritism, but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right” (Acts 10:34-35 NIV

We can take this reference to the devil in a number of ways. It’s likely that Luke has in mind Jesus’ ministry of exorcism, but it might also have some less obvious, but clearly political implications. If we take seriously the Isaiah passage, then to fulfill his calling as the Servant of God, Jesus would be engaging in actions that are clearly political or social in nature. He would be acting out God’s vision of justice by releasing the people from bondage to the Powers and Principalities, which in shorthand could be the devil. But, as Peter reminds us, this ministry of justice led to Jesus’ death on the cross, but it also lead to resurrection, so that Christ might be seen by those whom God had chosen, so that he might judge the living and the dead. To those who believe on him (Jesus) is given forgiveness of sins. Peter is simply rehearsing the basics of the gospel message as he understood it and as it is presented in the New Testament. One might quibble with this or that part of the message, but the point is – Peter understood that the Spirit of God was present in the world, and God didn’t show favoritism, but instead embraced all who would come. Did Peter have a universalist understanding salvation? Probably not, but still present in this brief text is the recognition that God’s love and God’s justice is inclusive.

Finally we come to the text that defines the day – the baptism of Jesus by John in the Jordan. Jesus seems to believe that this act is an essential part of his journey, even if John resists, recognizing in him something that in his mind would preclude this step. But Jesus says, I need to do this to fulfill all righteousness. At that John consents to Jesus’ request. But what is it that Jesus must fulfill? As Allen and Williamson write, Matthew is concerned with a “higher righteousness,” one that stands in contrast with that of persons like Herod, who wish to dominate and destroy. Perhaps this is the answer to our question of why Jesus took this step: “Trusting in status and rank, being full of oneself in matters of faith, counts for nothing in Matthews eyes. What counts is morally responsible actions” (Allen and Williamson, Preaching the Gospels without Blaming the Jews, p. 13). In taking his action of receiving baptism, whether in John’s eyes or our eyes, he needs to do this, he represents for us the attitude of the Servant of God whose coming is announced by Isaiah and witnessed to by Peter. And now, in this powerful moment of experiencing baptism at the hands of John, God provides God’s witness, as the Holy Spirit falls on him in the form of a dove and God speaks from the heavens: “This is my Son, whom I love, with him I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:17).

The Baptism of Jesus marks the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry, the point at which he takes up the call of doing good and bringing healing to the people, which is part of Peter’s own testimony. As we remember the baptism of Jesus, let us remember that he took up the mantle described by Isaiah, and that he lived out God’s justice, having been filled with the Spirit of the God of Justice and Love. Yes, remember that the Justice of God is couched in the Love of God.