Ministry of Reconciliation

Luke 15:11-32; II Corinthians 5:16-21

        The Apostle Paul had a major problem.  He had made a personal commitment to the folks in the Church at Corinth and things were not going as planned.  Paul wrote at least 5 letters to this church trying to straighten out their troubles.  We have the majority of those letters in First and Second Corinthians.  The difficulty faced by Paul was quite simple; many of the folks in that church just didn’t care for each other.  They disagreed over politics, they disagreed over religious issues and they really had problems over what kind of meat you could put on a sandwich. There was not a lot of room for discussion because each group, and there was more than one, was convinced they had been given the  word of the Lord, which of course meant the other folks were imposter at best and heretics at worst. We have to give Paul style points for trying. In the earliest letter, he tried to address each issue, an exercise which only made folks doubt Paul’s faith. In the letter that includes  First Corinthians 12, Paul attempted a second strategy. He acknowledged their differences and wrote while everyone was not the same, those differences should be celebrated.  Paul suggested just because folks are different doesn’t mean they can’t get along. He offered the human body as an example of different parts working together to obtain a greater goal. He pointed out all the different talents present in the Corinthian Church.  He encouraged the church to recognize and celebrate those differences.

        That didn’t work either. In Paul’s third letter we witness him trying a new tact. He wrote a soliloquy which quickly became considered his masterpiece.  “If I speak with the tongue of angels but have not love, I am little more than a clanging gong.” We know the words. We have heard I Corinthians 13 a hundred times or more, “Love is patient, love is kind, love is gentle. Love does not keep score but rejoices in truth.  Love bears all things.”  How could a poem such as this not melt the hearts of the harshest opponents?  That is a great question without a good answer. The letter fell on deaf ears.  Soon afterwards Paul was speaking of making another painful visit to this turbulent congregation.  It seemed the harder Paul tried, the worse things got.  Nothing Paul tried was successful with this cantankerous group. By the time we get to Paul’s final plea found in Second Corinthians 5 it would seem as if Paul has run out of things to say.  Nothing had worked and the Church was hopelessly divided. In Paul’s closing plea he wrote, “If anyone is in Christ, they have become a new creation.  As God reconciled us to himself, so we are to be reconciled to God and each other.” 

        Reconciliation is a big word that doesn’t often come up in our every day conversations.   What does it mean to be reconciled to someone?  Those of you who have been Presbyterian for a long time might remember in the midst of the turmoil of Viet Nam and the Civil Rights Movement, our church wrote the Confession of 1967 which centered around one verse.  “In Jesus Christ, God was reconciling the world to himself.”  The Confession clearly defined sin in terms of discrimination, national arrogance, and class conflict.  The confession declared the sinfulness of humanity was more than individual acts of disobedience.  Corporately we chose our desires, our needs, and our appetites over the will of God. Corporately we declare folks who think differently from us to be the primary enemies of God.  To quote the Confession, “The Church is called to bring all people to receive and uphold one another in all relationships.  Congregations, individuals, or groups of Christians who exclude, dominate or patronize others, resist the Spirit of God and bring contempt on the faith which they profess.”

        The $64,000 question is not, “How do we do that?”  The $64,000 question is “Why should we do that?” Why should we become reconciled, i.e. “settle differences to the point of finding harmony”? That risks watering down any issue to the point it no longer matters. Besides, it didn’t work in Corinth. Paul’s fourth and later fifth letters were rejected by the members of that church. If Paul couldn’t convince anyone 2,000 years, ago why should we listen to Paul today? 

 

While we are blessed by harmony, conflict in churches continues. Six churches in our Presbytery are in the process of leaving the PCUSA to go to other denominations. Their complaints center around what they believe to be the Lordship of Jesus Christ, the denomination’s stance on abortion, and a recent change in our ordination standards.  Part of me wants to say good riddance. I have been listening to folks like them holler and scream for the better part of thirty years. They are not going to change and at this point neither am I. Why should I be reconciled to them? To do so means I am willing to at the least continue the conversation and those conversations have always come with a price. I am not sure I am willing to give up anything else to folks with whom I so vehemently disagree.   Perhaps this is why Paul said, “Before we can become reconciled to each other we must first be reconciled with God.” What on earth did he mean by that?

        One of the more interesting stories of reconciliation is one we have heard since we were children.  A man has two sons.  One wants to go out and sow his wild oats.  The other stays home, does all the right things, says all the right things, and even believed he was supporting his father when he created a peer group of older brothers who stood out in the street vehemently protesting, “While we don’t actually hate our younger siblings, we deplore their sins and believe our lives would be much more pleasant if they would forever removed from the family.”  Well that may not be part of the story but I suspect many older brothers have expressed that thought.  Sentiments run strong between siblings, especially if younger siblings aren’t playing by the rules.  I once divided a group of kids into two groups.  I put the oldest brothers and sisters in group number one and the rest in group number two.  Then I asked who has it easier.    According to the elders, the prodigals get away with murder.  They get to come in later, they have a better allowance, they have fewer rules and more privileges.  According to one older brother,   “Back when I was in elementary school I was never allowed to watch TV until all my homework was done.  Now my younger brother doesn’t even know what homework is. In fact, he has a TV in his room.”   While I of course agreed with the sentiments of the older siblings, in fairness I asked the second group how they felt. Typically the prodigals felt like their older siblings always picked on them, and got away with murder.  One said, “She never plays with me and when her friends come over I practically have to leave the house.  Even the dog gets to stay.” 

 

        Those of us who are older brothers and sisters understand the refusal to come to the party given for the delinquent.  Forget his anger toward his sibling.  He was really angry with the father.  The older brother obeyed all the rules; he was pure, holy, and squeaky clean.  He never caused problems.  Except that there was not an ounce of forgiveness in his heart he was absolutely perfect.  How dare his father invite that ingrate back into the house? 

        Sometimes I get weary of preaching about the forgiveness of God?  Doesn’t someone have to be the standard bearer?  Doesn’t someone have to be willing to declare what is right and wrong!  If God isn’t going to strike down sinners in their tracks then I guess it is up to us to become God’s avenging angels.

        Ever played avenging angel before?  I imagine we have all done it once or twice. OK I am not only the older brother, I am a minister. Perhaps I’ve done it more times than I like to imagine. Let me tell you, it feels good.   Every time I have used my bully pulpit to make a righteous point I can count on four things: 

1.     I am never wrong.

2.     My adversary is never right.

3.     Consensus is never reached.

4.     And God, like Elvis, has left the building.

I don’t want you leaving this morning thinking that your minister implied that God does not have standards.  I don’t want you to believe that we should not strive for higher goals.  I certainly don’t want you to think that you shouldn’t voice your beliefs.  What I want you to consider is, ultimately, which is more important, God’s grace or our pride.  When I look out at you folks I see the people of God.  There is nothing ordinary about being God’s people, in fact you are called to be extraordinary: Extra thoughtful, extra friendly, extra involved.  And so you are.  You volunteer, you serve, you listen, you give.  Many of you burn your candle at both ends.  You have done many things so well, you have the right to be frustrated when the prodigals of this world seem to get more than their deserved share of God’s attention while we, the faithful, get left behind the barn. It makes sense that in our frustration we scream  at God, “Why do you keep giving them a second chance? Why do you always celebrate their homecomings?  What about those of us who never left? What about those of us who never stopped working? What about us who are always defending what you claim is right?”

        I struggle mightily with the reality that my service to God may not guarantee that God loves me more than the prodigal.  It is difficult to consider that simply because I claim God, the Holy One may not give me the inside track on the wisdom of this world.  And to be honest, isn’t it hard to believe that those who are our enemies may have not lost favor with God? 

        Karl Barth taught in Germany in the 1920’2 and 1930’s. He is the primary author of the Barmen Confession, an extraordinary document condemning the Third Reich. To escape death, Barth fled to his native Switzerland.  In 1943, Barth was asked by a reporter what he might say to Hitler should he meet the monster who had destroyed Europe. Everyone expected a scathing prophetic judgment. Instead Barth said, “I would quote Romans 5:8, ‘While we were sinners, Christ died for us.” The audience was stunned. What kind of answer was that? Barth continued, “To justly accuse Hitler of his abominations would only prompt a self-righteous defense and justification of his deeds. To remind him of God’s unparallel mercy and forgiveness might prompt genuine repentance.”

        What a strange God we worship. Theology becomes simple when God the Almighty lays out expectations to be honored.  But everything is turned upside down when God the powerful becomes God the servant, when God the everlasting becomes God the crucified, when God the Absolute becomes God the Reconciler.  Mary Gordon writes, “To become reconciled is to give up the exhilaration of one’s own unassailable rightness.”  The prodigal is wrong, why should we forgive him?  Our enemies are wrong, why should we talk to them?  Why should we give up the exhilaration of our unassailable rightness?  The answer is terribly simple. “When we were sinners, Christ died for us.                                           Amen.

Confession in the Midst of Confusion

Psalm 91

A month or so ago the first service choir began working on a piece of music based on the 91^st Psalm.  Being brash and full of myself, I volunteered to preach a sermon on Psalm 91 on the Sunday they wanted to perform the piece. I figured, give me a scripture and I can preach on it. So for the past month the choir’s version of Psalm 91 has been going through my head.

You who live in the shelter of the Most High, who abide in the shadow of the Almighty, will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust.

The early church theologian Athanasius wrote, “If you desire to know what confidence in God is, recite the 91^st Psalm.” I must say, for the better part of a week, I completely agreed with Athanasius…………but then my mind began to wrap itself around the words.

Because you have made the Lord your refuge, no evil shall befall you; no scourge will come near your tent. God will command angels to guard you in all your ways. They will bear you up so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.

If you have not noticed, there is a bit of a skeptic in me. Sometimes I read or hear something that leaves me shaking my head. Is this Psalm suggesting if I daily call on the name of the Lord, I will always be protected? Or perhaps if I wear the Psalm around my neck like a cross, all harm and illness will be warded off.   Quoting James Weldon Johnson, “I know my arms are too short to box with God”, and yet confusions clouds my brain when I consider these words. Actually confusion is not strong enough. I am alarmed by this kind of blind allegiance.  It begins with a gesture on a football field giving God the glory after a touchdown is scored. Did the guy who missed the tackle forget to pray before the game? It moves to someone winning a lottery ticket and giving God the glory. Do we really believe Las Vegas is actually heaven? On a more serious note I have sat with folks in a hospital and someone has had the audacity to say, “Your father is going to be fine. I prayed for his complete recovery.” Then when the father dies the same person says to me, “His faith must not have been that strong.”

How often have family members, or neighbors, or folks from a different part of the county, or even different country, gone to war with each other completely convinced they are doing the will of God and therefore are protected by God from misfortune falling upon them. I saw a picture taken at the Battle of the Bulge where two young combatants literally died in each other’s arms. One was German, the other American. The belt buckle of the German read, “In God we Trust”. The same phrase was etched on the helmet cover of the young American.

I am well aware of theologians such as Calvin who go so far as to say the purposes of God can be advanced through evil and suffering. But my short arms and small brain find it difficult to make the case that God’s purpose can be furthered through murder or discrimination or exploitation or even poor religious practices. I know we live in a dangerous world in which horrible things happen. I am equally aware sometimes people hide behind their faith as a way of ignoring the sinfulness of their actions. And I find that disturbing.

I believe with all my heart that God damns war and hate and hypocrisy and lies and tyranny and exploitation and murder.

I believe with all my heart that God blesses peace and honesty and truth and freedom and cooperation and dignity.

I believe that God works patiently and mercifully to change those things God damns into those things God blesses.

What I am trying to keep is my faith and my sanity while God is in the process of working all this stuff out.

                               Let’s return to the Psalm.

When you call, I will answer. I will be with you in time of trouble.

The song sung by the choir did not include this phrase. I wish it had because I believe verse 15 is critical. Process theologian Burton Cooper describes God as “boundless, yet limited.” I suspect that is not what some of you wanted to hear. Yet I find it helpful. I believe God lives in relationship with us and our world.  At the same time I believe God chooses to be limited in determining how particular events will end. That said, I also believe God’s self-imposed limitations does not affect God’s presence.

Once I was captured by verse 15, I began to see the rest of the poem differently. My reading returned to the third verse where the Psalmist said, “My refuge, my God in whom I trust.”

Let’s take a quick recap of my journey. My earlier reading of the Psalm seemed to imply that if I call on God, regardless of the danger, God will rescue me. The skeptic in me refused to be satisfied with this relationship.  Is God to be driven or motivated by my desires, my whims, or my battles? If God does not respond, is this evidence of lack of faith or even God’s lack of authority?

By week three I began to focus on the idea that regardless of the circumstances of my life, God will be with me. This revelation was inspired by one word, “trust”.

I suspect that trust is not something easily given. Trust has to be earned.  When you say you trust someone, this trust comes from experience. It comes from being in places that were not always perfect. Sometimes the places were even dark but the one that you trusted was there, regardless.

The more I read Psalm 91 the more I want to link it with two more familiar Psalms. Remember the words, “Even though I walk through valley of death, you are with me.” The writer of the 23^rd Psalm was not writing about something that might happen but rather was writing from something that had already happened. Likewise in Psalm 27 we read, “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?” From experience, from trust, the Psalmist ends this wonderful poem by saying, “Wait for the Lord; let your heart have courage; wait for the Lord!”

Neither of these Psalms offers a direction as to how God should make the universe run or how our problems will be solved. But both trust that in the midst of life, in the midst of heart ache, in the midst of tragedy, in the midst of chaos, even in the midst of death, God is there.

Last week, as I was preparing a sermon on Jesus’ time in the Wilderness I noticed one of the lines attributed to Satan was from Psalm 91. The devil took Jesus to the top of the Temple and encouraged Jesus to jump. Quoting Psalm 91 the devil said, “God will command his angels concerning you. On their hands they will bear you up.” Jesus responded, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”

I now believe the focus of the writer of Psalm 91 was not about testing but rather trust. Jesus said to his adversary, “Don’t play lightly with God.” When we call on God in prayer and speak of a loved one facing a difficult situation, I hope we are praying for God’s presence, God’s healing in ways we might not have imagined rather than some test to prove God’s existence.

Many of us raised children. Before they were born we made preparations as to how we would raise the child. Once the child was born we selected particular foods, baby proofed the house. We made sure they couldn’t wander into the street or stick their fingers in electrical outlets. We talked to them about right and wrong behavior. We coached them, we pleaded with them and sometimes we even punished them to keep them on a less harmful path.  Then they reached the age of 16 and we placed a set a keys in their hands. We warned them about the dangers of an automobile, of speeding, of alcohol, of other drivers, but I am going to guess, without exception, we sent them out to the one place more harm comes to teenagers than any other place in this land. We sent them out on the American highways. We sent them trusting they would remember our lessons. We trusted they would make good decisions and would be better drivers than we were when we were their age. We could not guarantee their safety, but what we could promise was, should something happen, we could be trusted to be there for them.

God has placed in our hands a manual for living. God has placed folks in our path that have been examples of how God would have us live. God has even made the ultimate sacrifice for us in the death of Jesus. Finally God promised to be with us, regardless of the choices that might jeopardize our well being. Then God placed the steering wheel in our hands. Sometimes we go too fast. Sometimes we negotiate curves in ways that endanger others. Sometimes we even crash. God does not keep that from happening. But God is always there, regardless of the situation we or others might have created.

The bottom line is, after a month of consternation and confrontation; after a month of realizing my arms are too short to box with God; after of month of trying to place a round peg in a square hole, I had to come back to this ancient text on this side of the resurrection, and this led me to the conclusion the Psalmist had already made:

God was there yesterday………..God is there today ………

God will be there tomorrow.

Does this protect me from the terror of the night? Does it guarantee me from the arrow that flies by day? Does this justify any action I might take as Godly?

The answer to each question is a resounding no!

All I am left with is this. Right or wrong, justified or guilty as charged, God will not leave me now or forever. 

And that’s enough.       That’s enough.              Amen.    

Memory as the Beginning of Resurrections

Luke 4:1-13; Deut. 26:1-11

        “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor.”  This was the starting place for many a story told around campfires, late at night in the fields outside Bethlehem, and later Prague, perhaps even Berlin and now once again in Jerusalem.  It is not a story told by my ancestors.  It is the story told by those who claimed a family tree that went all the way back to Abraham.  The Aramean referred to is the grandson of Abraham, the semi-nomadic Jacob who eventually followed his son Joseph into Egypt.  And there the adventure began.  It was a story that involved slavery, liberation, the Law, the wilderness and finally the Promised Land.   It was the story of Moses, Aaron,  Miriam, Caleb and Joshua. It was a story that every Jewish child learned as a reminder that Yahweh is greater than Pharaoh, the Red Sea, the Wilderness, the sinfulness of a disheartened people and even the walls of Jericho.  “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor” offered hope, redemption and resolve.  It rolled off the tongue of a Jewish child as easily as,  “I pledge allegiance to the flag”, rolls off the tongues of our children.  It was more than a history lesson.  It evoked memories of God’s everlasting covenant.

Every family has stories.  I keep those stories, those pictures of another time firmly embedded in my memory.  I can’t visualize my grandfather Gober’s face but I can remember his words of encouragement as we fished together on the lake near his cabin.  Likewise, life lessons shared by my parents helped mold my spirit and my soul.  I don’t need a picture to remind me of the first time I saw my daughter or son.  I imagine the same is true of you.  I know we record or photograph everything from the first step to the final resting place.  But the real memories are the stories we tell over and over around the table at family gatherings.  It is the clay that molds who we were and who we will become. These stories are our past and future lifelines.

You may have never heard the verse, “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor”, but you know the power and the hope that evolves from telling stories.  Memories are often the beginning of resurrections.  How often have you found yourself in a difficult spot and your memory of a past story or holy word saved you from making a horrible, life changing decision.  We need search no further than our New Testament text to be reminded of how memory is often our last defense against the power of evil.

Today’s text is a story that we encounter once a year.   It marks the beginning of our Lenten experience.  It is the story of Jesus in the wilderness. Matthew, Mark and Luke share similar accounts of the 40 days.  Each affirms the power of memory to overcome the temptation of ungodly behavior.

Luke’s account informs us that Jesus had eaten nothing for forty days.  Sometimes I find it difficult to go forty minutes without eating.  Here is Jesus, absolutely famished, surrounded by nothing but sand and rocks and the devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command one of these stones to become a loaf of bread.”  Soon Jesus will be filling up empty nets with fish.  Soon Jesus will be feeding 5,000 people from crumbs.  There is no doubt that Jesus had the power to produce a meal out of nothing.  And that is exactly the point.  We are never tempted to do what we can not do.  We are only tempted by what is within our power.    Children are tempted to steal cupcakes from the kitchen because those cupcakes are within their reach.  Young people are tempted to experiment with alcohol because someone places it in their hands.  Adults are tempted to play with power because we think it defines who we are.  Jesus was tempted to something he was perfectly capable of doing in order to impress his host.  But instead of showing off his power, he shows off his memory, “One does not live by bread alone.”

The devil was impressed but not convinced.  The devil took Jesus up into the mountains and pointed out all the kingdoms of the world.  “I know that you have come to save all these people.  I know that you have an agenda that will certainly make life easier for them.  I am even convinced that you will make a good ruler.  You seem to have what it takes.  But convincing all those folks that you are the real deal is going to take an awful long time.  They hardly agree on anything.  No sooner have you made one group happy then you will have upset someone else.  But they listen to me.  I not only have their ear, I have their hearts and souls.  You want to rule these people, do it in my name.  If you are willing to worship me, these people will follow you.”

How many politicians have made their personal deals with the devil?  I suspect the devil comes in many disguises.  He may be a political action group or a lobbyist.  He may be a powerful voice already entrenched in the halls of power.  Whatever the disguise, the temptation is always the same, the keys to the kingdom in exchange for a critical vote at a specific moment.  But Jesus could not be bought.  His response to becoming a fixture within the belt way was, “Worship the Lord your God and serve only him.”

Disappointed, but not defeated, the devil reached for his trump card.  He took Jesus to Jerusalem, to the top of the Temple and said, “You don’t have to prove anything to me.  I know who you are and I respect what you believe you need to do.  But trust me, you are about to play to a very tough audience.  They will turn on you in a moment.  They want miracles; they want great displays of power.  Why go through all the misery of trying to win these folks over.  I’ll gather a crowd of thousands of people.  I’ll make sure the high priest and the Roman Governor are looking your way.  All you have to do is jump.  God will not let you die.  He has too much invested in you.  Just jump.  Before you have fallen twenty feet, a band of angels will appear.  You will be whisked to the ground before your adoring fans.  They will know that you are the Son of God.  Caiaphas will flee to the Temple; Pilate will retreat to Rome.  Jerusalem will once again become the Holy City.”  

Jesus said, “Do not put the Lord God to the test”.  And with that the devil departed from him.

Let’s look at what Jesus turned down.  In the initial temptation, one might suggest Jesus ignored the chance to rid the world of hunger.  Can you imagine what might happen if every piece of loose concrete in Haiti was suddenly turned into food?  How could that be considered anything but good?  Secondly, Jesus was offered the chance to be King of the world.  Think of it, with Jesus as King, his agenda would be peace, righteousness, ridding the world of hunger and disease. It would literally become a new heaven and earth.  Finally, Jesus could have avoided death by displaying his supernatural powers.  People would have believed.  The chant Jesus is Lord would have been on his lips.  What could have been wrong with this?

Temptation is always deceptive.  Jesus was not being asked to compete with the devil.  Jesus was being tempted to compete with God.  If he had done so the devil would have won.  What greater sin can there be than to consider oneself to be God?

In the face of all that he was offered, Jesus remembered the story he had been taught as a child, “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor.”  Oh maybe those words did not pop into his brain but the training that followed from that story was there.  As he learned the story of his ancestors, he learned and remembered the creed of their ancestors.

Deuteronomy 8:3, “One does not live by bread alone.”

Deuteronomy 6:13, “Worship the Lord your God and serve Him alone.”

Deuteronomy 6:16, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”

What do we remember in our times of temptation?  Perhaps even more importantly, what will our children remember in their times of temptation.  I suspect more often than we like to admit, it is not the temptation to do wicked things that ruins us.  It is the temptation to believe that we are God.  Once we do that, we can justify anything.

Imagine remembering “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor.”  Imagine remembering, “Thou shall have only one God”.  Imagine remembering, “For God so loved the world.”  Imagine our memories as the beginning of our resurrections.

To God be the glory.                                            Amen.