Mike Johnson’s Biblical Worldview: It’s complicated for me.

Speaker Mike Johnson’s response when he was asked how he would make public policy?  He replied:

“Well go pick up a Bible off your shelf and read it.  That is my worldview.”

Pick up the Bible and get a worldview, as Mike Johnson suggests?

Many of us know the question is fraught from the start.  Christians have hermeneutical methods for both receiving the Old Testament with appreciation as well as relegating it to a supporting role, citing progressive revelation.  Jesus started it, with his famous mantra from the sermon on the mount, “you have heard that it was said by men of old (i.e. Moses)… but I say to you…”. That’s why “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” gets replaced with “love your enemies.”  

But it is complicated; the dance of support and relegation leaves an opportunity for lots of interpretive improvisation; hang on tightly to the creation of humans “in the image and likeness” of the Divine as having enduring significance for ethics and politics so that “all men [sic.] are created equal” with “inalienable rights.”  That part stays relevant.  But never mind the bit about a genocidal worldwide flood as a solution to the problem of the “Sons of god” who saw that earthly daughters “were fair, and they took wives for themselves of all that they chose” (Gen. 6:2).  That seems a bit too mythical to pay much attention to anymore.  

And then there is all that blood.  Hermeneutics finds ways to ignore the human slaughter that the Divine approves of, the slaughter that the Divine commands, and the slaughter that the Divine Himself (almost, but not always portrayed as male) accomplishes himself.  After Making the idolatrous Golden Calf while Moses was up on the Mount Sinai receiving the Torah, the people made a golden calf to worship.  That was considered treason, so Moses, upon discovering it commanded them saying, “ “Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel, ‘Put your sword on your side, each of you! Go back and forth from gate to gate throughout the camp, and each of you kill your brother, your friend, and your neighbor.’”  The Israelites, en route to the Promised Land, were told by God, through Moses, to slaughter the Amalekites who resisted them.  The people, men, women, and children were all put to the sword after the Lord knocked down the walls of Jericho.  One could go on, but the point is made.  Mike Johnson knows that these particular parts, but not the others, need to be relegated.  However, since God does not change, maybe violence has a role to play in the Divine plan in the future too?  The dance is open to improvisation.

The complications multiply.  Preachers of Civil Rights like to quote the prophets who believed in the continuing relevance of the call to “let justice roll down like water” because God’s will was clear. “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to  do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”  But does doing justice mean that other people have a claim on your stuff?  Shouldn’t they remember “you shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or male or female slave, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.”  Besides private property rights, that brings up the topic of slavery.  Most of us think that the slavery part should be relegated, but it is there, right in the Ten Commandments, which people seem to want to keep as relevant for ethics and politics.  Some even put them up in public courthouses.  Oddly, they don’t seem to want to put up the Beatitudes, but they have their reasons.   Mike Johnson has not specified which is more relevant to the worldview he finds obvious in the Bible.

But the Old Testament is taking too much attention here.  The New Testament is the fuller revelation, according to classical Christian theology, and therefore the most important place to go to find a biblical worldview.  Jesus gets primacy of place, but again, it is complicated and calls for hermeneutical deftness.  “Turn the other cheek” and “love your enemies” is best understood metaphorically, and not as literal ethical or political mandates.  “Do not judge” clearly does not refer to the judicial system; it is also a metaphor.  “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth” likewise.  Maybe these lofty ethics only belong to the coming millennial age after Christ returns, according to some branches of American Christianity.  

After Jesus, Christians turn to Paul and the other epistle writers for worldview perspectives.  But here again, it’s complicated.  Paul congratulates Junia for being “prominent among the apostles” and writes that in Christ there is no “male and female.”  But there is a pesky paragraph in 1 Corinthians that seems to not only uphold that distinction but also make those prominent apostolic women keep their mouths shut.  “women should be silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak but should be subordinate, as the law also says.  If there is anything they desire to know, let them ask their husbands at home. For it is shameful for a woman to speak in church.”  There is a rationale for the subordination of women that extends beyond the church.  It goes all the way back to the beginning, as Timothy explains, “For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor.”  Women’s vulnerability to deception leads him, logically, to say, “I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over a man.”  Mike Johnson must have a hermeneutical ploy in mind when this is applied to women today who serve in the Congress he presides over and the Supreme Court that interprets the laws they write.  Worldviews are tricky.  

Then there is the slavery issue again.  Unfortunately, it is not simply an old Old Testament concern.  Paul says that in Christ, “there is no longer slave or free,” and that an enslaved man named Onesimus should be treated by his owner Philemon “no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother.”  But other letters penned in Paul’s name advise slaves to “obey your earthly masters with fear and trembling.”  Titus does not even dignify the slaves by direct address but rather advises masters to “Tell slaves to be submissive to their masters.”  But certainly, Mike Johnson would not want slavery to be part of a biblical worldview, would he?

Maybe Mike was thinking more narrowly about specific concerns like the one his party holds up as essential: abortion.  Maybe he is simply alluding to all the places where abortion is discussed and condemned.  Maybe or maybe not, since the Bible doesn’t mention it — yes there is that one ambiguous text about a pregnant woman injured as collateral damage in a fight, but it’s both ambiguous and, again, it’s the Old Testament.  

Anyway, Mike’s advice does not do much to clarify things for me and my worldview.  

The Call to Follow Jesus

The Call to Follow Jesus

My last sermon as pastor of the Central Presbyterian Church in Fort Smith, Dec. 31, 2023 after which, I’m officially retired.

First, read,   Isaiah 58:6-9 understanding that the prophet imagines God calling for a fast. Not a fast from food, but from injustice and oppression.

Matthew 8:18—22

Now when Jesus saw great crowds around him, he gave orders to go over to the other side. A scribe then approached and said, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Another of his disciples said to him, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” But Jesus said to him, “Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.”

Proof-texting is a sin.  Or so we were taught in seminary.   Proof-texting is citing a verse completely out of context to prove your point.  I plan to sin that way a lot in this sermon.  

Why?  Because, in my last sermon as your pastor, I want us to review together Jesus’ call to follow him.  This, to me, is central and fundamental, so a good place to begin, and a good place to end.   

And so I want to refer to a number of texts which, let’s say, “prove” what Jesus was all about.

What do the best historical scholars believe Jesus meant when he called people to follow him? 

A good place to begin is at the beginning of the Jesus story.  Mark was the first gospel written, and Mark begins his story of Jesus saying,  

Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near;  repent, and believe in the good news.

(Mark 1:14—15)

So according to Mark, the call to follow Jesus included the demand to “repent.”  

Most of you know that the word “repent” did not mean what it has come to mean today.  Today repentance usually includes remorse, guilt and shame.  

But back then, it meant “change your thinking”.  It comes from the word metanoeo, from meta, as in metamorphosis, and gnoeo, as in knowledge.  

So what do we need to change our thinking about in order to follow Jesus?  And remember, the first audience for these words were Jewish people in the first century.

The first change of thinking is about a major theme of the Hebrew bible: the doctrine of retribution: that God rewards the righteous with blessing and punishes the unrighteous with curses.  Jesus said, no, it does not work that way.

your Father in heaven… makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.

Matt. 5:45

Rain and sun, major blessings for farmers, go equally to the evil and the good. No more retribution.  

Even though retribution is how you were brought up to think about God, as a good Jewish person, now you must change your thinking.  That is good news.

This is revolutionary and liberating.  God is on your side, not your worst problem.  God is not out to punish you, even when you “miss the mark” — which, by the way, is what the word “sin” means; it’s an archery metaphor.  That is the first idea to change your thinking about. No retribution.

Following Jesus also means eschewing violence.

Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.”  

Matt. 26:52

Revolt was in the air in Jesus’ day, but he believed it would have disastrous consequences.  And when it finally broke out, about 36 years after he walked the earth, it was a catastrophe.   It ended with tens of thousands dead and the temple in a heap of burned-out ruins.

Jesus was nonviolent, but not passive.  He lead a people-movement which was confrontational, but again, not violent.  

He taught us to forgive, when wronged, rather than seeking vengeance.  He told us to love, even to love our enemies, which back then, included the oppressive Romans.  

For the first several centuries, converting to the Jesus-way, for soldiers, entailed resigning from the army.  It was not until Constantine’s time in the fourth century that Christians could be soldiers.  

I realize how complicated this is for us today.  Did not Hitler have to be stopped?  Did we not have to defend ourselves against the Japanese?  Does not Ukraine have a right to self-defense against Russian aggression?  There are many questions like this.  

But one thing must be clear: violence is terrible.  War is organized mass slaughter.  

As followers of Jesus, we have been taught to pray, “lead us not into temptation.”  

Scholars have suggested that the original meaning of that request is a prayer not to ever end up in a situation in which violence seems the only possible response.  

At minimum, followers of Jesus can never jump to violence as a first response.  If ever used, it must be the last resort.  

We must never rush to war, or vote for those who do.  We must always look for solutions. We remember that Jesus said, “blessed are the peacemakers.”  Let us be those who make peace possible. 

Following Jesus also requires us to change our thinking about what God wants.  Despite centuries of the practice of offering sacrifices, as required by the law of Moses, Jesus concluded that God did not need nor want them.  

Therefore, there would no longer be a need for priests.  Everyone could go directly to God in prayer, saying, “Our Father in heaven…” and expect to be forgiven of our “debts” without the shedding of sacrificial blood.  

According to the gospels, Jesus never went to the temple to offer sacrifice or to consult with a priest for anything.  

It is therefore a deep irony that early Christians, who were raised as good Jewish people, in order to explain why the Romans killed Jesus, settled on the explanation that God wanted him as a sacrifice for our sins.  

Sadly, early believers walked away from Jesus’ teachings on a number of issues, including this one.

Following Jesus also requires us to change our thinking about how to look at other people.  

Jesus dismantled the purity system of his day.  He practiced inclusive association and table fellowship, touched lepers, people with blood diseases, and even corpses.  

He even dropped sinfulness as a category, replacing it with the category of lostness. Recall the 3 parables of lostness that Luke records: the lost sheep, lost coin, and the prodigal (or rather lost) son, who gets a party instead of the chance to grovel out the confession speech he composed in the pig pen (Luke 15). 

Therefore Jesus gained a reputation for eating with “sinners” from the perspective of his purity-obsessed opposition (Luke 7:34).  His followers had to change their thinking about people.

Following Jesus also requires us to think differently about how we relate to God.  We could go so far as to say that Jesus was spiritual but not too religious.  

He practiced meditation. Jesus was a mystic.  How do we know? Luke 5:16 says “[Jesus] would withdraw to deserted places and pray.”  “Would” implies his standard practice of all-night prayer or we would say, meditation.  

Jesus had an intimate relationship with God as Abba; he taught us to pray “Our Father in heaven…” (Matt 6:9ff.). 

He trusted that the God who provided for the lilies of the field and the birds of the air could be entrusted with our entire lives. 

Jesus advocated, not fear of a God of wrath and judgment, but total trust, up to and including the experience of facing death.  Remember his prayer on the night of his arrest, 

And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and[Jesus] prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.”

(Matt. 26:39)

There is so much more we could say, but let us end with this.  In stark contrast to the “meek and mild” portrait of Jesus that is so popular today, it is without a doubt that Jesus was an activist.  

He marched, with his crowd, from Galilee to Jerusalem to arrive at the Passover festival which celebrated national independence, to confront the power elite.  

He symbolically shut down the center of power, the temple with its banking system included.  

It was a direct, non-violent action, an acted-parable of opposition to the Roman-colluding aristocrats that profited from it, and made peasant life so miserable.  In other words, it was political action.  

Jesus was not uniquely political at all.  He learned all about confronting politics from his Hebrew bible.  

What was the story of Moses if not the story of someone who confronted the politics of the Pharaoh-regime to demand justice?  

Similarly, the prophets of Israel, from Elijah to Isaiah and from Amos to Micah confronted the kings and aristocrats of their days, demanding justice.  

God’s chosen fast, as we were reminded today, includes a call to provide for the welfare of the poor, the oppressed, and the hungry.  Political policies matter; because they affect the lives of people who matter.  

Even the word “gospel” or “good news” is political.  It was the very word the Romans used to make announcements about the Emperor.   

When it was used by the gospel writers to make announcements about Jesus and the kingdom of God, it was a direct political confrontation.

The call to follow Jesus begins with the call to repent or to change our thinking about retribution, about violence, about sacrifice, about people with respect to purity and sinfulness, about our view of God, spirituality, and political activism, for a start.  

This is the Jesus path.  It is challenging; it is demanding, but it is also beautiful and liberating.  This is the vision I believe in and have tried my best to communicate, and so it is for me, the place to conclude.  

May you find joy and hope as you continue along this path, in whatever configuration lies ahead for you, the people of Central Presbyterian Church in Fort Smith.

Song from the Jesus Movement

Song from the Jesus Movement

Sermon for Dec. 17, 2023 Advent 3B, Central Presbyterian Church, Fort Smith, AR.

1 Samuel 2:1-10

Luke 1:46—55

And Mary said,

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
    and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
    Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
    and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
    from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
    he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
    and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
    and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
    in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
    to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

People-movements always inspire songs.  As they sing, the songs inspire the people in the movement.  Songs bind the people together in a common purpose.  They give passion to vision.  

Recall the civil rights movement and the music that they sang out, in front of dogs, the fire hoses, and the angry shouts: songs like “Oh, Freedom,” “We Shall Overcome” and “We Shall Not Be Moved.”

The early Christian moment inspired songs as well.  

People were so captured by Jesus’ vision: of diverse humans together, in a beloved community, without walls of separation or discrimination, celebrating God’s loving mercy, and the Spirit’s empowering presence, that they produced movement songs.  

Some of them we have, embedded in New Testament texts.

When Luke sat down to write his version of the Jesus story, five decades or so after Jesus’ lifetime, he must have thought, “How can I tell this story without the power of these early movement songs?”  

We know that Luke had a copy of Mark’s gospel and used it as his template, but Mark began with Jesus as an adult, leading a movement without any music in it. 

So Luke took some of those early Christian songs that celebrated the vision of the movement, and put them into his story: the songs of Simeon and prophetess Anna, the songs of the Angel choirs.  

Which character in the story should get to sing the first song?  He gave the piece to Mary.  Who better to sing a song that laid out the vision from the very beginning than the mother of Jesus herself?

The Song about God

So what is the song about?  It is about God and God’s people.  It is about what the scriptures say God has done, and therefore, about what God characteristically does, and so therefore, about what God will do yet again.

We do not know anything about the Christian community that produced this song, since Luke’s gospel is our only record of it, but one thing is clear: they did not write it from scratch.  Almost every single line is either a direct quotation or an echo of the First Testament, or Hebrew Bible (or, the Old Testament).  

How do you know what God characteristically does, and therefore what God will do?  Well, you look back at the stories of what God has done.

Does that strategy work for us?  Can we just pick up the stories from the Hebrew Bible and what it describes God as doing back then, and expect the same in the future?  

Should we expect another worldwide flood to kill all the bad guys on earth?  Or another battle of Jericho where the enemy’s walls fall down so that we can rush in with swords raised?

Or did that early Christian community have a more sophisticated approach to the Hebrew stories, as they tried to discern what God was, and is, and would be for them?  Indeed, they did, and we can see it in this song that Mary gets to sing.

The Jesus Lens

How did early Christians get their approach to the Hebrew bible’s stories that gave them that discernment?  

They had a template, or a pattern to use, or maybe we could say a lens to look through, to bring into focus what they needed to see about the past; a lens that would give them a vision for the future.

That template, that pattern, that lens, was Jesus himself.  Jesus is the criteria by which we too look at stories about what God has done, to figure out what God characteristically does, so that we can know what God will do.

This is so important for today.  Those early Christians who composed this song out of many lines and echoes from the Hebrew bible used one single poem as their basic structure: it was the song of Hannah, the mother of Samuel. I am sure we all heard the similarities between the two as we read both of them this morning.

Songs and Violence

But did you notice a huge difference?  Hannah’s song assumed that God would help his people to victory through violence. 

His adversaries shall be shattered

In Mary’s song, God is no less effective in his help to his people, but there is no violence.  

In another one of the movement songs Luke includes, the song the angels will soon get to sing for the shepherds, they celebrate Jesus’ birth as the dawn of

peace on earth, goodwill to everyone.

Jesus taught non-violence.  Jesus taught us to turn the other cheek instead of seeking vengeance.  That is why the Christian symbol for love is the cross: Jesus’ love for all people was so comprehensive that he refused to use violence even to save his life.  

The cross forever symbolizes for Christians the Jesus’-way.  Instead of fighting for the destruction of our enemies, with Jesus, we pray,

“Father, forgive them.  They have no idea what they are doing.”

So then, looking at the Hebrew bible through the Jesus-lens, what does the early Christian community see of what God has done and therefore, characteristically does, and therefore, can be relied upon to do?

God Reverses Fortunes

With Hannah’s song as a pattern, they see the theme of God’s great reversals.  God brought down the proud and raised up the the lowly.  Hannah sang:

“He raises up the poor from the dust;
    he lifts the needy from the ash heap,
to make them sit with princes
    and inherit a seat of honor.”

Mary sings:

“He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
    and lifted up the lowly

Hannah and Mary were both singing about what God had done in their most famous story, the exodus from Egypt.  

As the story goes, the Hebrew slaves made bricks without straw 24/7 for Pharaoh, to aggrandize his proud empire.  But the God of liberation heard their cries and set them free.

Scripture teaches that that is what God did.  That is what God characteristically does: reverse fortunes.  Bringing down the mighty and lifting up the lowly. 

So, now we know what God will do.  God will liberate the slaves.  Not for the sake of an alternative Hebrew empire to replace Pharaoh, but for the “empire of God,” or as Jesus would call it, the kingdom of God, or as we might call it today, the beloved community.

The Jesus Pattern

That is how Jesus lived.  He believed God’s will was liberation from every form of bondage, and he brought God’s liberation to the lowly people who came to him to experience the presence of God’s Spirit and power.  

He healed people, liberating them from both their bodily bondage, and from the bondage of social stigma that disease carried in the ancient world.

Jesus liberated people from the bondage of fear of an angry, punishing, vengeful God, by teaching them to call God “Abba”; father, or daddy.  

He taught them that they were not shamefully stained and impure before God (as they had been told) but rather, the human condition is more like being lost, like lambs, apart from the fold.  

But no fear, God was a finding God, a “good shepherd“, always luring, coaxing, non-coercively persuading his lost sheep back into the fold of his beloved community.

The God of the Hebrew stories, seen through the Jesus-lens, had this characteristic:  God had frequently reversed the fortunes of the lowly, the meek of the earth, the powerless, and had raised them up for new purposes.  

Second-born sons somehow obtain the inheritance.  Barren women give birth.  A shepherd becomes king.  Exiles return home. Reversals seem to be God’s characteristic way of acting.

Singing Mary’s Song

So Mary, looking down at her pregnant belly, is the best one to sing a song about the greatest reversal of all: that a baby from an insignificant village on the outskirts of an empire will lead a new movement of people that would transform the world.

Luke’s community was part of that transformed world.  They gathered around a common table: 

  • men and women, scandalously together; 
  • slaves and free, subversively together; 
  • rich and poor, remarkably together, 

singing together songs of the movement; songs of praise for the God of reversals:

My soul magnifies the Lord,
    and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior

That is our song.  We are part of that transformed world.  We see God through the Jesus-lens, and we see the world through the Jesus-lens.  

We see the lowly and the poor with compassion.  

We see the outcast and the oppressed with mercy and hope.  

Mary sang that this movement would continue from generation to generation.  

We, who have been transformed by knowing God as Abba, rejoice to be a part of that nonviolent movement in our generation.

What We Celebrate in Advent

What We Celebrate in Advent

Sermon for Dec. 10, 2023, Advent 2B Central Presbyterian Church, Fort Smith, AR.

Mark 1:1—8

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ.

As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,

“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,
    who will prepare your way,
the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
    ‘Prepare the way of the Lord;
    make his paths straight,’ ”

so John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And the whole Judean region and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him and were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the strap of his sandals. I have baptized you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

One of my sons recently gave me a book to read. It’s called “Dominion: the Making of the Western Mind,” by Tom Holland. 

The theme of the book is that Christianity has had an enormous impact on the Western world including in the categories we think in. 

For example, Holland writes:

Whether it be the conviction that the workings of conscience are the surest determinants of good law, or that the church and state exist as distinct entities, or that polygamy is unacceptable, [Christianity’s] trace elements are to be found everywhere in the West.”  

Even more powerful than these big ideas, Christianity transformed the world of ethics.  Holland writes, 

The heroes of the Iliad, [who were the] favorites of the gods, golden and predatory, had scorned the weak and downtrodden. So too, … had philosophers. The starving deserved no sympathy. Beggars were best rounded up and deported. Pity risked undermining a wise man’s self-control. Only fellow citizens of good character who, through no fault of their own, had fallen on evil days might conceivably merit assistance.

This book takes a serious look at history. It does not shy away from discussing the dark side of Christianity: Crusades, inquisitions, persecutions of heretics, and anti-semitism. 

But Holland pays close attention to how utterly different the values of Christianity are from Greek, Roman, or pagan values, and even though those Christian values were not universally implemented by leaders of either church or state who proclaimed themselves Christian, nevertheless they keep resurfacing in renewal movements and periods of reform.  

Holland says, 

“That every human being possessed an equal dignity was not remotely self-evident a truth. A Roman would have laughed at it. To campaign against discrimination on the grounds of gender or sexuality, however, was to depend on large numbers of people sharing in a common assumption: that everyone possessed an inherent worth. The origins of this principle—as Nietzsche had so contemptuously pointed out—lay not in the French Revolution, nor in the Declaration of Independence, nor in the Enlightenment, but in the Bible.”

There are many things that I think the Christian Church, on the whole, got wrong, over the years. I have spoken about some of them here. But I wanted to take a moment in this Advent season to tell a different story. 

I want to share why Advent and Christmas are such a special season for me personally, and I believe, for all of us. The Christian story is amazing, beautiful, liberating, and transforming. So let us look at it.

Something New Can Happen
The story of Advent in the Gospels begins with John the Baptist, wearing the uniform of a prophet. He is announcing that a time of preparation is needed because God is about to do a new thing. 

The true beginning of the story is not with his voice, crying out in the wilderness. The story begins in Israel.

The prophets of Israel proclaimed repeatedly that God was going to do something new and unprecedented. So new, that the former things, like liberation from Egypt, would pale by comparison.  

John the Baptist was in that prophetic tradition, and, according to the gospels, identified Jesus with that new act of God. 

In Christianity, we receive the idea that God can, and continually does make things new. God is constantly taking the old, worn out, broken, dead parts of our lives, and creating something new from them. 

There is Mary, a poor peasant in a small village that means nothing to anyone important.  Nothing new should ever be expected from there, or from her, and yet, the story is about God’s next move, not just Mary’s.  All Mary does is to commit herself to the next good thing God is going to do.  She famously says to the angel, 

I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be with me just as you have said.”

There is always a next right thing, even after colossal disaster. There is healing after brokenness. There is forgiveness after failure. The essential Christian story includes the experience that new life, resurrection, follows death. 

This is not just something we can say about the final moments of our lives on earth, but of every moment. The old life can be left behind; a new life in the Spirit is continually possible.  

The Gift of Repentance

John called for repentance as the means to prepare the way for the new things God was going to do in and through Jesus. 

This too is a priceless Christian treasure: the freedom to admit our failings. In fact, the regular self-assessments we do in prayers of confession are powerful tools of spiritual growth. 

We have received the gift of a pattern of living that starts with acknowledging our human capacity to get it wrong, knowing that the invitation to confess and repent, or change our thinking, is a gift that leads to growth, not a prelude to judgment. The judgment is that, as Paul proclaims, “in Christ, we are forgiven.”  

The Gift of Forgiveness

The new thing that John wanted to prepare us for by repentance includes not just the liberating message that we have been forgiven by God, but a new vision of life in a covenanted community, in which we freely forgive one another. This is the antidote to toxicity in communities. 

The teachings of Jesus help us to understand how to live in a healthy, life-giving community.  One of Jesus’ central themes was that God’s beloved children must forgive each other. In the prayer Jesus taught us we say, “forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors”. 

The early Christian communities worked hard to learn and teach this. The writer of Ephesians says, “be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.”  

There is no room for the evil eye in the communities that gather to follow Jesus, in other words, churches. There is no space for bitterness, jealousy, resentment, or vengeance. 

Instead, we are called to check our egos; to let go of the need to be seen as justified, to have our excuses taken seriously. This is a huge gift of the Christian tradition: that the cycle of wrong following wrong can stop. Instead of cycles of violence, Christian communities can be sources of healing and wholeness, of reconciliation and mutual encouragement.  

This is our baptismal identity.  

And this is what we celebrate in Advent.

The Hard, Right Thing

The Hard, Right Thing

Mark 13:33—37 

 Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.  It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch.  Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn,  or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly.  And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”

We are called to do the right thing, even when it is the hard thing.  

The right thing is to stay awake, and to wait with hope, no matter how long it takes and no matter how hard it is.  

In the Christian tradition, we understand that we live our entire lives waiting, between the already present kingdom of God and the not-yet fulfillment of God’s great dream of justice, peace, and reconciliation.  

We live, waiting for a resolution of all that is wrong with the world.  And it is hard.  There is so much wrong: so much wrong with the world, so much wrong with our country, so much wrong with the church, so much wrong with ourselves.   And it has been so long.  (Pause)

Jesus was right; it is like waiting up all night, not knowing when the master is coming.  Staying awake all night is hard (nearly impossible for me).  

But staying awake is the right thing, even if it is the hard thing.  Wakeful waiting with hope is the hard, right thing we are called to.

Advent is all about waiting.  On the surface, it is waiting for the celebration of Christmas.  But that is just the metaphor.  

All of the Advent characters in the gospel stories are waiting.  

Mary and Joseph, awaiting Jesus’ birth. 

Zechariah and Elizabeth, awaiting the birth of John the Baptist. 

Simeon, and prophetess Anna in the temple, all are waiting, all are hoping, all are awake to the promise of the new breaking into the old.  

Mary, according to Luke, sings of hope that the same God who 

has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; [who] has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty,” 

will again help his oppressed people through the ministry of the baby growing inside her.  

Wakeful waiting is not passive.  

The task involves watching, like the doorkeeper, eyes down the dark road, looking for movement.  

Watching involves discernment.  Is that a moving shadow?  Is there more than one?  What could they be doing?  In the darkness of night, things are not always what they appear to be.  

One of the warnings that show up in the gospel stories predicts that there will be those who claim to be the Messiah.  Don’t be fooled by them.  

How true that seems to be of our dark time of watchful waiting.  Many wear the name Christian but don’t be fooled.  Be awake. Use discernment.  

Watch them and see how they turn Jesus’ teachings on their head.  

In the name of the one who taught inclusive love, they want to exclude, build walls, ban books, and remove rights.  

In the name of the one who spoke of a kingdom of God, they speak of Christian nationalism.  

Be awake.  Be watchful.  Even in the dark, you can discern what is going on.  

In the parable we read, the master of the house goes on a journey, and it says he, 

puts his slaves in charge, each with his work.”  

In the time of watchful waiting, we have our work to do.  It is to continue the master’s work.  

It is to feed the hungry.  

It is to visit the sick and incarcerated.  

And it is also to march up to the centers of power and influence and to confront the injustice of the system that has oppressed them for so long, as Jesus did at the temple.  

The tasks are not complete.  There is still racism built into systems of power and privilege.  

We saw it in Alabama, where as soon as section 5 of the Voting Rights Act was gutted by the Supreme Court, they acted to suppress the vote by 

passing a voter ID law, closing polling places in predominately Black counties and purging hundreds of thousands of people from voter rolls.” 

(Source: Southern Poverty Law Center

Closer to home, Arkansas is one of 30 states spending public money on private school vouchers.  The effect, according to the Southern Poverty Law Center, is to, 

drain billions more of public tax dollars to pay for private education vouchers, often regardless of family wealth and despite research showing vouchers harm student achievement, lack accountability, invite corruption and waste, fail to protect students with disabilities, promote discrimination and exacerbate segregation.”  

Southern Poverty Law Center

The tasks are not complete.  Stay awake.  

But don’t succumb to despair.  Yes, it is dark.  A lot is wrong. Many tasks remain unfinished. But wait with hope.  

There is a promise that supports the wakeful waiting.  According to the gospels Jesus promised that 

Where two or three are gathered” in his name, he is present.  

In the breaking of the bread, we see him among us.  In the faces of the least of these, we see him among us.  We remember him.  

Despair is not an option.  Watch and wakefully wait with hope.  It is the hard thing, but it is the right thing.  

We believe in the dream of the kingdom of God in which God’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven.  

We believe in, and hope for peace, even though surrounded by war.  

We believe in the quest for justice, even though injustice thrives.  

We believe in truth, even when dishonesty is the order of the day.  

We believe in the hope of reconciliation, even when division is the easiest and most popular path.  

We believe it is right to forgive, even our enemies, even though they oppose our values.  

We will be the community that is not naive to what is happening “in the darkness before the dawn; in the waiting and uncertainty,” because to wait is to hope.  There would be no waiting without hope.  

Advent says that something new can happen.  And we are not alone.  

Advent calls us to stay awake, to watch, and to work, to do the next right thing, even when it is the hard thing.

The Least of These

The Least of These

Sermon for Nov. 26, 2023 Christ the King Sunday, Year A, Central Presbyterian Church, Fort Smith, AR

Matthew 25:31-46

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world, for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You who are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels, for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment but the righteous into eternal life.”

Matthew 25:31-46       The Least of These

Jesus’ famous parable of the sheep and the goats is one of the most important texts in the Bible for me, and I believe for us today.  But, as with almost anything important, there are problems with it.  

There are problems internal to the parable itself, and problems with what the church has done with it (or, not done with it).  

Internally, we have the problem that the whole scene is a judgment scene.  Some end up getting eternal life, while others get eternal punishment.  Because of what I understand about the historical Jesus, that is problematic to me.  We will talk about that today.

The other problem is that throughout the history of the church, there have been a couple of competing ideas about what is needed for salvation, or eternal life.  

Opinions differ. Whether it was baptism, or good sacraments, or faith alone, or some combination, none of them have agreed with this parable.  

In this parable, salvation, or eternal life is solely based on a person’s response to people in poverty or oppression.  

By the way, I include oppression because when the king says, “I was in prison and you visited me,” most likely he was referring to political prisoners or prisoners of conscience.   Some prisoners, in those days, would starve if no one on the outside visited them bringing food.  

Realism or Story Fantasy?

So let us look briefly at the problems and then see why this is so important for us today.  

First, the question I ask is, how much of this should we take as mere story-telling artistry and how much as a description of a spiritual reality?  

There are many parables in which Jesus includes artistic details just to make them interesting and memorable, often using great exaggeration.  

Recall the parable in which slaves were given millions of dollars to invest.  It was an absurd amount of money which everyone hearing it would have smiled at.   It is not meant to be taken as realistic, but it helps make the point.  

In this parable of the sheep and the goats,  we have God represented as a king at the end of time, acting as the great judge of all the nations.  

Is that realistic? I know that has been taught for years, but does it square with how Jesus taught us to understand God? I do not believe so. 

Jesus’ View of God

So, how did Jesus teach us to think of God?  Jesus taught us to know God as our perfect Heavenly Parent: Father or Mother.  

Jesus taught us that God is concerned for our welfare, even more than for the welfare of the lilies of the field or the birds of the air which God’s creation provides for.  

Jesus taught us that when we get off track, like the prodigal son, that God is waiting to welcome us back with joy and a big party.  

So, no, I do not believe that depicting God as end time judge is meant to be a realistic image.  But the story does tell us what is important to God, even if its importance is not actually about getting rewarded or punished eternally.  

The Story We Have Been Told about Christianity

The bigger problem really is that the church, throughout history, has told people that the whole point of Christianity is like having a fire insurance policy; you need salvation from hell, we were told.  

So how are we saved?  There has been a large consensus for many years that believing the right things is essential for salvation.  Pause 

Some churches say formal creeds, like the Apostles or Nicene Creed, others have statements of faith that you have to sign, or at least say you agree with.  

But whether recited formally or merely described, most churches have taught that believing the right things is crucial for salvation.  

Taking the Parable Seriously

One of the reasons I think this parable of the sheep and the goats is so important is that it gives the lie to that focus on belief as the main thing.  

There is nothing about right belief in this parable.  

The sheep are not asked their views about the creed.  

The goats are not condemned for not believing in original sin or the virgin birth, or for not believing that Jesus pre-existed his earthly life.  

No; this parable about what is important to God is not about correct belief at all.  That fact should shock us.  Pause

The focus on right belief misses the essential message of this parable: that dedication to the issues caused by poverty and oppression is what matters to God, because people matter to God.  

In fact, they matter so much, that we can say that Jesus takes personally all acts of mercy and compassion on behalf of the poor and oppressed, and takes personally every neglect of compassion and mercy.  Listen again to how personally God takes it:

“I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’”

This is shocking.  That Jesus would look at every act of feeding the poor, of providing clothing and shelter, of tending the sick and caring for the incarcerated as spiritual acts done for him.  

When people think about doing spiritual acts on behalf of God, normally we think of religious actions: offering sacrifices, kneeling, bowing heads, shutting eyes, or crossing oneself; but here, the actions taken are all acts of justice and compassion.  

We should note that by prioritizing acts of justice and compassion over religious ritual,  Jesus was standing squarely in the tradition of the great Hebrew prophets before him.  

They had long argued that God did not want to hear the noise of a religious festival if the poor were suffering neglect or abuse.  

Jesus was standing in a tradition that had taught that God was the source of everything: “The earth is the Lord’s”.  That God was the creator of every human being, including “the least of these” who bore the image of their Creator every bit as much as the great ones.  

But Jesus went even further.  Jesus said that every act of compassion, every action that promotes justice and compassion is a spiritual action, done for God.  

And, on the other hand, every act of neglect or oppression, every time suffering is ignored, God takes that as tantamount to rejection of God.

This parable is quite challenging for all of us, me included.  The first thing I think of when I see a housing-challenged person is usually not “look, there is Jesus.”  But that is why this text is so important.  

It keeps calling us to that aspiration.  It keeps showing me how far I have to mature spiritually.  It keeps getting me back on track of what is really important.  

We do want to be one of the people who “inherit the kingdom.”  This text shows us the way.  

It is not by the things we can believe, but by the justice and compassion we show.  Jesus taught that God is good.  And Jesus says that justice and compassion for people is what God wants most.

Touching Lepers

Touching Lepers

Sermon for Nov. 12, 2023, Pentecost 25A, Central Presbyterian Church, Fort Smith, AR

 Matthew 8:1-4

When Jesus had come down from the mountain, great crowds followed him, and there was a man with a skin disease who came to him and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.” He stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, “I am willing. Be made clean!” Immediately his skin disease was cleansed. Then Jesus said to him, “See that you say nothing to anyone, but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.”

According to Matthew, after calling his first disciples, Jesus went up the hill like Moses had, on Sinai, to deliver his first set of teachings, his long sermon we call the Sermon on the Mount, which contains his famous beatitudes.  

In Matthew’s intentionally arranged narrative, the very first thing Jesus did after the Sermon on the Mount was to heal a leper.  

Why this healing?  Why this first action after the first teaching?  

It’s like the Secretary of State selecting the destination of his first trip abroad; it’s symbolic; it sends a message.  What’s the message?  Let’s look. 

This is a story of a healing.  Or was it simply that?  Some background.  It was not until the nineteenth century after Christ that we got a scientific understanding of things like germs and with it, ideas like contagious disease.  

Implication: in Jesus’ time, there was no way that the rules against touching people with diseases had anything to do with fear of contagion.  Something else is going on.  

Second, this leper didn’t have leprosy as we know it.  Hansen’s disease, what we call leprosy, is quite different from the skin problems described in the Old Testament.   

The Biblical disease called leprosy affected humans, but it also affected buildings and clothing.  It spread quickly and could completely disappear (without antibiotics, of course) [Lev 13-14.]  None of this would apply to true leprosy.  

So, first, no one, in Jesus’ day, knew about germs and infectious diseases or about the process of transmitting disease through touch, and, second, the illness we are talking about was not what we know as leprosy.  

So what is going on here and why is it important enough for Matthew to put it first?  

What is going on is a contest of worldviews.  It is not theoretical and abstract; it is a contest that gets people so mad at Jesus that they want to kill him.  

It is a contest that he provokes repeatedly and intentionally.  And it is a contest in which followers of Jesus are participants.  It’s still going on today.

Here is what I mean: people with this skin disease were considered ritually unclean.  The solution was to keep ritually unclean people separate from society.  

According to the Old Testament people with this disease had to wear torn clothes, dishevel their hair, and announce their approach by yelling, “unclean, unclean.”   (Lev 13:45-46) 

Remember, this was not because they understood germs – they didn’t – this was all about ritual uncleanness.  If you touched a ritually unclean person according to the Law of Moses, you too became ritually unclean, that is impure.  This meant that you were obligated to make sacrifices (Leviticus 5:3).

This was no small matter; you were obligated to bring a sheep or a goat from your flock and present it to the priest for sacrifice.  

You can imagine the economic impact this would have on a small farmer.  If you were poor, you could substitute two doves or pigeons.  If you were so poor that you couldn’t even afford a pigeon, you could finally bring flour mixed with incense.  (Lev. 5)  If you were that poor, even that requirement could sink you. 

In any case, you were impure and had to perform the correct ritual with help from the priest to be forgiven, made clean, and to be free to have human contact again.  

But it wasn’t only skin disease that made people ritually unclean and indebted to the temple system; according to the Law of Moses, all kinds of things made you unclean; various body fluids, contact with animal products, or with carcasses.  

The average peasant farmer was perpetually ritually impure, and perpetually making other people impure by contact with them, and perpetually indebted to the system to make proper sacrifices.  

This was a horribly alienating system; people felt alienated from God by virtue of their guilt, even though they had little or no control over the things they were guilty of; they were alienated from each other by virtue of being unclean and spreading uncleanness through touch, and those with this skin disease were literally ostracized from their communities by physical segregation.  

Again, not out of fear of the spread of the disease, which they could not have known about, but by fear of the spread of their ritual uncleanness to the community.  

So this leprosy – or whatever it was – had all kinds of functions:

  • A social function: alienation from the community
  • A spiritual function: impurity and guilt 
  • An economic function: indebtedness to make sacrifices

All of this is probably why this “leper’s” hesitation as he came to Jesus was actual and not hypothetical:

Lord, if you choose, you can make me clean.” 

Did he think it was likely that Jesus would get involved?  How could he?  Jesus was not a priest who alone, according to the Hebrew Bible, had authority to pronounce his condition healed.  

And second, if in the act of doing some kind of healing procedure, Jesus touched him, he would become unclean and therefore guilty himself.  It was likely that Jesus would say, “sorry, no.” 

But Jesus intentionally deconstructed the whole system that alienated this man from God and from his community.  Listen to verse 3:

“He stretched out his hand and touched him saying, “I do choose.  Be made clean!”

Jesus did not represent the status quo, but rather an alternative to it.  Jesus is a solution to a problem.  

The problem that Jesus was intentionally confronting was a mistaken belief about the whole relationship between God and people.  

Jesus was against was a religious worldview that believed God was the great enforcer of ritual purity and people owed him payback.  

Simultaneously, and inescapably, Jesus was doing battle with the power systems controlled by people who found a way to make a profit from this system.  

Remember, it is going to be the leaders of the religious system, the priests, the scribes, and the purity-obsessed Pharisees who eventually get him killed.  

This debate about what God wants from people is not Jesus versus Judaism.  This is a debate within Judaism.  

Jesus, reflecting the perspective of the prophets of Israel before him, was saying, this religious perspective had gotten God wrong.  Instead of God being the source of healing, reconciliation, and liberation, they had made him the source of bondage, guilt, and indebtedness.  

According to Jesus, God is for people, not against them.  

God is the source of their connection with each other, not the reason they should become alienated from one another.  

God is the one who wants to set people free, not the one to keep them under a load of guilt and debt.  

And so, in direct violation of this purity system, Jesus reached out his hand and touched this leper, and that touch healed him.  He was restored to his community as a whole person to be embraced, not a half-person to be shunned.   

Jesus wanted this man to take the contest of worldviews right back to its source, at the temple, so he told the man 

go, show yourself to the priest and offer the gift Moses commanded as a testimony to them” 

This could very well be translated “as a testimony against them”.  

By the way, the command not to tell anyone else showed that Jesus knew how much of a conflict this symbolic action would create – if word spread too quickly, he could have a very short career and life.  

According to Mark’s account, the man did not keep quiet, and as a result, Jesus could not even enter a town, but had to stay out in the countryside.  Following Jesus was going to be risky and potentially dangerous. 

What does this story mean to us?  We are here because want to follow Jesus.  So where does this important, first, paradigm-making account take us?  

It takes us directly to the religious and social systems that humans have created today, often in the name of honoring God, which makes people lepers.  

Lepers are people who are shunned.  And that shunning is  justified because they are considered bad.  They are shunned because their badness is considered contagious.  And there are lots of people who have been made lepers today.  

Thank God that we have made some progress.  It was only in the last generation that we took divorcees off the leper list. The same can be said of people with physical and mental disabilities who used to be shunned out of sight, often into dehumanizing institutions.  

But we still have lepers and people still shun them and the ban the books they write, and people still feel OK about it.  

We need to think hard about this.  What about people who have non binary sexual orientations and identities, for example?  Why do people find them so threatening?  Are they beyond the reach of God’s love any more than we?  Shunning has always been easier than thinking.  

I don’t know; maybe some people need to have lepers, people to shun, scapegoats.  Maybe it’s psychological; perhaps they need to have people onto whom they can project their anger and frustrations born out of bad parenting or accumulated humiliations.  Who knows?  

Anyway, even if we could find some psychological explanation for this leper-making pathology, it wouldn’t help.  What we need is a solution.  

What we need is a new way to think; a new perspective about who God is, what he wants of us, and what he wants us to be for one another.  

According to Jesus, God wants us to be the church for each other, and for everyone.  That’s what Jesus was all about.  His great passion was to replace an old, broken down, destructive concept with a fresh, new, life-giving concept.  

God, according to Jesus, is not the great purity scorekeeper.  God is the great healer, and God is for us.  And God is showing us, through Jesus, how we should be towards one another: not those who shun the lepers, but those who touch them.  

Jesus calls this revolutionary concept the Kingdom of God, and the big question is: Do we get it?  If we grasp it, it will change the whole way we relate to God and to other people.  

Do you want to follow Jesus?  Find a leper to touch.  Touch him with an invitation to dinner.  Touch her with a phone call to say you care.  

Touch them with a welcoming smile and an offer to sit next to them, in public, where everyone can see.  Tell them you would be proud to have them move in next door to you.   

Eventually, Matthew is going to let us in on the secret: the leper is Jesus himself in disguise.  He will say, in effect 

as much as you have done to the least of these lepers of mine, you have done to me.”  

Matt. 25:45

Do you want to follow Jesus?  Touch a leper.

Being Grasped to Struggle

Sermon for Nov. 5, 2023, Pentecost 24 A, Central Presbyterian Church, Fort Smith, AR

Genesis 32:22-31

The same night [Jacob] got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise, everything that he had. Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket, and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” Then the man said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans and have prevailed.” Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, yet my life is preserved.” The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.

Stories tell us who we are. That is one reason that we tell stories.  Families and communities tell stories and remember them and hand them down the generations.  

We especially value stories that tell us how we came to be who we are.  

Names and Destinies

We just heard an ancient story from our wisdom tradition, the Hebrew bible, about how the ancient Israelites got their name.  Names are not trivial.  And when a name has been changed, it is all the more important.   

In this story, Jacob’s name is changed to Israel.  According to the story, Jacob is the father of the 12 sons who become the 12 tribes, so this name change affects his whole family line.  It tells everyone who they are.  

We are the spiritual descendants of Jacob, and of the Israelites, so this name change affects us too.  According to Paul, we Gentile Christians are the Israel of God.  (Gal. 6:16)

Homecoming, Twenty Years Later

This story begins as a homecoming story.  Jacob, whose name, according to the story, means “heel grabber” was the second-born twin.  

But he stole his brother Esau’s birthright, and tricked his father, Isaac, into giving him the blessing of the firstborn son.  Of course, this made Esau mad enough to want to kill him.  So Jacob fled to his uncle Laban’s home far away.  

Now, twenty years have passed, and he is coming home.  Twenty years ago he left home single and destitute.  Now he returns with two wives, eleven sons, so far, and great wealth in flocks and herds.  

He is worried about how his brother will receive him.  There could be violence.  He makes elaborate preparations including huge gifts by which he hopes to assuage Esau’s wrath.  

Tomorrow he will arrive and face his brother.  This scene is set on the night before.  He splits his large household into two camps and then goes off to spend the night alone.  While he is sleeping he has a dream.  

As readers, we recall that twenty years ago, as he fled from home and from Esau, he had another dream.  He saw a ladder (or ramp) on which angels were ascending and descending.  

It was a dream about the meeting point between heaven and earth.  He heard God promising him a future hope, just as God had promised Abraham and Isaac. He awoke exclaiming, 

Surely the Lord is in this place — and I did not know it!” 

Now, twenty years later, twenty years of growing up, twenty years of maturing, he has another dream. This one is less clear.  It is less black and white.  In fact, this dream is eerily ambiguous.

The Man Who Wrestles in the Night

What happens?  He is alone at night, and the text says, 

a man wrestled with him until daybreak.”

Who is this man?  We do not yet know.  He is simply called a man.  What does he do?  He wrestles with Jacob all night long.  

Jacob is wrestling with all kinds of things.  He wrestles with his fear of his brother Esau.  He no doubt wrestles with his conscience.  He wrestles with decisions about his family – how is he going to protect them?  

He must wrestle with what it will be like to meet his parents; his supportive mother and the father whom he had deceived.  

Perhaps he is wrestling with himself.  What does it mean to be called the heel-grabber, the supplanter, the one who grasps and takes what rightfully belongs to another?  Certainly, he also wrestles about his future. 

Every one of us too is wrestling with many things.  We wrestle with our past, and what we have done. We wrestle with our future, and what will become of us. 

We wrestle with ourselves, with who we are.  We all live somewhere in between the self we wish we were and the self we are.  

We know ourselves; that we are capable of great generosity, kindness, and sacrifice; we are noble.  But we are also capable of pettiness, meanness, and vengeance.  

We are people who have suffered, and we are people who have caused suffering.  We are complicated; ambiguous; not black or white.  Like Jacob and the man, we wrestle with these ambiguities.

The Struggle in the Night

In that wrestling match, the man is not able to prevail over Jacob, so he touches his hip and dislocates it.  Who is this that can dislocate a hip with a touch?  And who would do such a thing?  

The man wants to break off the fight.  He says, 

Let me go, for the day is breaking.” 

Who is this who can dislocate a hip with a touch, but who has to leave before daybreak reveals his identity, and yet cannot break out of Jacob’s hold?

The mysteries pile up.  Nothing makes sense.  This “man” cannot be a mortal, but neither is he acting like God.  We still do not know who Jacob is wrestling with.  Nor does Jacob know.  

We never know, do we?  All our lives we wrestle, we struggle, and we never know. Is it just life that we are struggling with?  Is it God?   

If our struggle is with God, is God the cause of our pain?  How could God both promise a future and be the source of injury?   It does not make sense.  

Jacob senses that whatever is true, this is no ordinary man, so he says,

I will not let you go, unless you bless me.

Another person might have just given up the struggle and let the stranger go.  Not Jacob.  He is unwilling to let go of the struggle, even when it is painful; even when the struggle itself causes pain.  Jacob will not let go.

 Changing Names

The man asks Jacob his name — his identity. Jacob tells him: Heel-grabber.  

No.  This is not all he is.  That is his past.  That will not be his future.  There is more to Jacob than what he was before.  So the man says to him,

You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans, and have prevailed.”

Whether or not a Hebrew dictionary would define “Israel” with the definition that the man gave, this is the definition of the story.  To be Jacob, is to be a person of the struggle.  To be Jacob is then, to be “Israel”; one who struggles with God and humans.  

Struggle, with God, and with his life relationships, now defines him, and his descendants.  From now on, they are not the Jacobites, the supplanters, they are the Israelites; those who struggle.

Who has the power to make such a radical and complete identity change for Jacob?  Jacob demands to know his name, just as Moses would do at the burning bush many years later.  

But Jacob is not given an answer.  Nevertheless, he draws the conclusion that his struggle has been with God.  The text says, 

So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.

Children of the Struggle

This is our spiritual ancestor.  We then, are the children of those who struggle with God — a struggle which affects all of our relationships.  

It is a struggle that entails great ambiguity. It is a struggle that includes pain.  But we, like Jacob, or Israel, have been grasped, and we cannot let go. 

I have struggled with God all my life.  How could I not?  How could anyone not struggle?  

How do we read the evidence of our lives?  We receive blessings without number.  But we also suffer.   

Like the uncertainty of a man grabbing us in the darkness of night, we wonder how to understand what happens to us.  Is God for us or against us?  Blessing us or wounding us?  

Whatever we conclude, one thing is certain, we have been grasped, and we are people of the struggle.  It is in the struggle that we find our identity.  It is in the struggle that we find our meaning.  

We do not see this in the dark night, during the struggle, but we can often see it in the morning, looking back.  Just as in the morning, Jacob concluded he had seen the face of God, so looking back at the many struggles of our lives, perhaps we can see the hand of God.  

We would not be who we are today apart from those struggles, as painful as they were.  

God, In the Struggle

This does not mean that God is sending us struggles to test us or to toughen us.  That is a view of God that Jesus walked away from.  

For Jesus, God was Abba, or Father, most affectionately.  Not “Father” in a passive, permissive, nor neglectful way, but Father as one who wills the good for us in each moment, and who is there for us in our struggles, in the pain, suffering with us, as good parents do.  

Jacob believed he had been blessed, and had seen “the face of God”.  Jesus said, 

blessed are the pure in heart; they will see God.”  

Matt. 5:8

We do not see God in the night of struggle.  But perhaps we can see God, when we look back, as people who have been grasped by the Ultimate, and who understand, as Jacob figured out, that it is not our grasping egos that have brought us this far, but it has been God, all along.  Perhaps Abba has been with us, and we didn’t know it.  

So we can look to the uncertain future with hope.  We are not only children of the struggle, we are also children of the blessing.  

Like Jacob, we do not know what the morning will bring — it will probably look differently than we can imagine — it always does.  

But we are people of hope, and therefore people of faith.  We are a community of fellow grasped-ones, fellow strugglers, and fellow hopeful ones.  

We are the Israel of God.  Our ultimate struggle, then, is to be people who are, as Jesus said, “ pure in heart,” so that perhaps we too can perhaps “see God,” even in the struggle.

The Jesus Version of the Good Life

The Jesus Version of the Good Life

Sermon for Nov. 5, 2023, Pentecost 23 A, Central Presbyterian Church, Fort Smith, AR

The Jesus Version of the Good Life

Matthew 5:1—12

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him.  Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely[b] on my account.  Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Why in the world do we see people putting up displays of the 10 commandments and not the Beatitudes? 

It is more than ironic, it is deeply troubling to me when the Ten Commandments are hung on the wall, or displayed on a highway billboard, or at the courthouse, as if they expressed best our Christian values. 

There are two reasons that I believe those plaques and billboards are a mistake. First, because in the Hebrew Bible, the first commandment does not start with the words, “Thou shalt…”. It starts with a summary of a story. 

Not just any story, it is a story of liberation. It is the story of a labor movement. It is the story of an end to a horrific injustice: the injustice of slavery.  Instead of starting with “Thou shalt” listen to how it begins:

I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me.”

(Exod. 20; Deut. 5)

In the Bible, the Ten Commandments are the grateful response of slaves set free. So the first commandment begins, in both the Exodus and the Deuteronomy versions with a reminder of the story of that liberation.

The Ten Commandments are set within the context of a God who cares about suffering, who responds to the cries of the slaves, and who liberates them from oppression.  

These are not the commands of a harsh taskmaster, but of a God of redemption who wills the good for the people, and so guides them to live ethically with each other: not to steal, kill, or lie about each other; to look after aging parents and to keep your eyes off your neighbor’s belongings. 

So, the lack of liberation-context for those Ten Commandment plaques is my first objection to them. 

My second objection is even stronger. Jesus is the one we are following, not Moses. There would indeed be no Jesus without Moses, but we do not stop with the Ten Commandments. 

If there are to be any wall plaques or billboards let them display Jesus’ beatitudes. Let these words be the ones we aspire to live by. Let this vision of the good life, the life worth living, the life lived as if God were king and God’s will was being done on earth as it is in heaven, be the words we see every day and take to heart. 

We are a community of people who have been called together by Jesus of Nazareth. It is his vision that inspires us. His prophetic critique of the status quo, of the oppressive domination systems of his generation, and the bold announcement that the kingdom of God was a living, present reality have grasped us; awakened us; inspire us.  

We can do nothing better, in this moment of uncertainty and angst than to go back to the fountainhead, back to the original mandate; back to Jesus’ words that Matthew has so artfully gathered together into what we now call the Sermon on the Mount, and specifically, to the Beatitudes. 

Back to this radical understanding of what God wants. 

Back to this clarion call to be different, to have different values, and different goals than the culture around us. 

Back to this particular understanding of what constitutes a good life, a life worth living, a blessed life, according to Jesus. 

A Fresh Take

The challenge is to hear these familiar words afresh so that they can again inspire us, as they must have inspired the disciples the first time Jesus spoke them. So, to help us hear them afresh, I would like to offer these two alternative renderings. 

First, Eugene Peterson’s Message version:

“You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you, there is more of God and [God’s] rule.

“You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.

“You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.

“You’re blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. [God]’s food and drink is the best meal you’ll ever eat.

“You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.

“You’re blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.

“You’re blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family.

“You’re blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God’s kingdom.

“Not only that—count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don’t like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always gotten into this kind of trouble.”

It would be good to chew on each line and savor it slowly.  

The language of “blessing,” can inaccurately imply that there is some kind of reward, like a treat for getting it right; God blesses people who are like this, with special favors. That is not what was meant originally, but that’s how we use the word blessing today. 

So, this next version removes the language of blessing and replaces it with the idea that God chooses sides, and is on the side of people with a particular set of values and characteristics. This one is from Brian McLaren and Rob Bell, combining Matthew and Luke’s versions:

The poor, and those in solidarity with them –

God is on your side.

Those who mourn and feel grief about the state of the world –

God is on your side.

The non-violent, gentle, and humble –

God is on your side.

Those who hunger and thirst for the common good –

God is on your side.

The merciful and compassionate –

God is on your side.

Those characterized by sincerity, kindness, and generosity 

God is on your side.

Those who work for peace and reconciliation –

God is on your side.

Those who keep seeking justice –

God is on your side.

Those who stand for justice and truth as the prophets did,

who refuse to be quiet even when slandered,

misrepresented, threatened, imprisoned, or harmed –

God is on your side!

On the eve of whatever is coming, in the midst of a war in the Middle East and the war in Ukraine, the actions of China’s government, in the context of a deeply divided nation and a dysfunctional Congress, with uncertainty about our future, let us recall our deepest values. 

Let us review who’s vision we believe in, as we hear the rhetoric of …

Let us remember whose understanding of God’s will we trust in, 

We are the beloved community, God’s people, the sheep of God’s pasture. 

Let us be people of the Beatitudes; remembering always what Jesus’ vision of the good life is. 

That You May Live

That You May Live

Matthew 6:24-33

“No one can serve two masters, for a slave will either hate the one and love the other or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by worrying can add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For it is the gentiles who seek all these things, and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

Where did Jesus get his ideas?  We know that Jesus was very familiar with the prophets of Israel; he quotes freely from them.  Today we will look at ideas in Amos that stand behind Jesus’ perspective.

We only read a snippet so far of the prophet Amos, but Amos reads like a rant, as we will see.  He feels passionately about issues so he uses intense language.  And because he is a prophet, and prophets speak for God, he makes it sound like God is ranting too.  

We recognize that when we speak about God, or when the Bible speaks of God, we are using human language, metaphors, and analogies.  That is all we can do, as finite humans.  So, we speak of God as male or female, knowing that God is beyond gender, but is nevertheless, personal (at least, not less than what we understand as personal).  

God’s Emotions

We also speak of God as having emotions – even strong ones – because how can we imagine a person without emotions?  Amos (and other prophets) can speak of God even hating.  God hates what is going on.  The idea of God experiencing hatred is clearly an off-the-charts rant.  But the point is that what is happening is horribly wrong.  

I do not want to have hate as a part of my life.  But it is easy to want to use the language of hatred in conditions that are severely wrong.  It is easy to think of hating the suffering that mass killings cause.  It is tempting to speak of hating the conditions that women endure from men or that people suffer in terrorist attacks and war.  

Amos used the language of hate to describe how God felt about the obscene gap between rich and poor in his day.  Listen to some excerpts:

2:6    Thus says the Lord:

For three transgressions of Israel,

and for four, I will not revoke the punishment;

because they sell the righteous for silver,

and the needy for a pair of sandals— 

7 they who trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth,

and push the afflicted out of the way;

He insults the people who live in easy luxury in the face of other people’s poverty, predicting that it will all come to their own ruin:

4:1    Hear this word, you cows of Bashan

who are on Mount Samaria,

who oppress the poor, who crush the needy,

who say to their husbands, “Bring something to drink!” 

2 The Lord God has sworn by his holiness:

The time is surely coming upon you,

when they shall take you away with hooks,

even the last of you with fishhooks. 

Amos rants against the corrupt legal system that always works in favor of the wealthy – the legal system in those days was conducted at the city’s gates, so he says again, they are going to experience futility instead of the prosperity they feel entitled to.  This is where the “hate” word comes:

5:10    They hate the one who reproves in the gate,

and they abhor the one who speaks the truth. 

11 Therefore because you trample on the poor

and take from them levies of grain,

you have built houses of hewn stone,

but you shall not live in them;

you have planted pleasant vineyards,

but you shall not drink their wine. 

12 For I know how many are your transgressions,

and how great are your sins—

you who afflict the righteous, who take a bribe,

and push aside the needy in the gate. 

13 Therefore the prudent will keep silent in such a time;

for it is an evil time.

Hating Religion

So, how does God feel about this?  Amos says that when people who are content to live with this kind of injustice go to the temple, and try to make God happy, it does not work.  In fact, the opposite; it makes God even angrier.  Notice the “hate” word again:

5:21    I hate, I despise your festivals,

and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. 

22 Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings,

I will not accept them;

and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals

I will not look upon. 

23 Take away from me the noise of your songs;

I will not listen to the melody of your harps. 

24 But let justice roll down like waters,

and righteousness like an everflowing stream.

Most of us did not grow up on the farm, nor have we seen the inside of a meat packing plant, so this image is a bit graphic for our modern imaginations.  In an age of animal sacrifice, there was a lot of blood that flowed down the sides of the alter. The contrast is powerful.  Instead of flowing blood, and religious music, God says, 

let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an everflowing stream.

Flowing Justice, Seeking Good

The prophets had a vision of a world in which there was justice, and justice means fairness.  It means nobody has an advantage over anyone else, and no one takes  advantage of anyone.  That was not the world Amos lived in, but it was the one he imagined, as a person of vision.  It was the world he longed for.   The goal of his rant was to motivate his people to long for the same vision because it is what God wants:

5:14-15 Seek good and not evil,

that you may live;

and so the Lord, the God of hosts, will be with you…

Hate evil and love good,

and establish justice in the gate;

it may be that the Lord, the God of hosts,

will be gracious to the remnant of Joseph….

24  …let justice roll down like waters,

and righteousness like an everflowing stream.

Seek good…love good.”  Be a person of desire – of strong desire – of passionate desire.  And turn the desire into concrete action:

establish justice in the gate (= legal system).”  

Establish justice” – make it happen.  There is no room for passivity; this must be our passion.  Why?  Because when there is injustice, people suffer.  They get trampled on.  They get pushed aside.  And God hates that.  So be passionate for justice until it flows as unstoppably as water does downhill.  And make sure the flow is not intermittent, but constant, 

“like an everflowing stream”

Because the spiritual principle at work is that when justice is flowing constantly, it means life and goodness for you!  Hear it again:

5:14-15 Seek good and not evil,

that you may live;

and so the Lord, the God of hosts, will be with you…

Jesus and True Spirituality

Living with a passion for justice changes you.  It makes you more spiritually alive and aware.  You become a person conscious of the presence of God when you love what God loves.   This is true spirituality.

And this is exactly the kind of spirituality that Jesus taught us.  Look around; look at the birds, look at the lilies.   This starts out sounding like a call to passivity – the birds “neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns”  the lilies “neither toil or spin.”   

But this not about being passive; it is a picture of living without the anxiety of longing for more than you need.  It is not that we are not to be striving, but that we are to strive for the right thing. What is it that we are to strive for?  

strive first for the kingdom of God and his justice, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

Strive for God’s kingdom and God’s justice, and you will be given all you need.  It will be okay.  You will be taken care of.  The same God who watches over creation cares for you.  So strive for justice because that is what the kingdom of God calls us to do.  Strive for a world in which no one has the advantage over anyone else, and no one takes advantage.  

Strive for a world in which men do not take advantage of women.  Strive for a world in which one race does not have the advantage over other races.  Strive for  world in which no gay or transgendered person is being pushed aside or trampled on.  

And in that striving, you will find life, you will find contentment, and in that striving you will experience the presence of God.