Flipping the Script (Sixth Sunday after Epiphany)

Matthew 5:21-37

21 "You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, "You shall not murder'; and "whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.' 22 But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, "You fool,' you will be liable to the hell of fire. 23 So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24 leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. 25 Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. 26 Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny. 27 "You have heard that it was said, "You shall not commit adultery.' 28 But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. 29 If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. 30 And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell. 31 "It was also said, "Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.' 32 But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery. 33 "Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, "You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.' 34 But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, 35 or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. 36 And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. 37 Let your word be "Yes, Yes' or "No, No'; anything more than this comes from the evil one.

            I recently received what I am sure will be one of the most talked-about books published in recent years. Its title, Christianity after Religion: The End of Church and the Birth of a New Spiritual Awakening by Diana Butler Bass. I’ll give you a quick overview of what I’ve read so far: the Church is not nearly as relevant, effective, or meaningful as it was just a generation or two ago, and the Church is not nearly as relevant, effective, or meaningful as those on the inside might like to think it is. People (especially young people, people my age, people often referred to as “millennials”) are leaving organized religion. Not because they don’t like the pastor, not because they don’t like the music, and not because of worship schedules, none of the old “Red Herrings” of church decline in decades past. No, they are leaving because the church has grown stale, self-absorbed, and primarily focused on preserving the institutions that made religion the cultural presence it once was.

These same people have grown disenfranchised with what the Church has become: in fact, they make up the third largest “religious” group (and, by the way, the youngest group) in the United States. Some refer to them as the “nones,” people “with no single issue, theology, or view of God…the ‘nones’ include atheists, agnostics, ‘nothing in particular,’ religiously oriented and secular unaffiliated people.” According to one recent survey, cited by Dr. Bass, “If these trends continue at the current pace, ‘nones’ and other religions combined will outnumber Christians in the United States by about 2042.”[1] There are some in the Church who would argue that the way to prevent these folks from leaving is to program around them, accommodate ministries in the church in order to attract these folks. There are churches that swing from one worship trend to the next, from one form of outreach to the next, from one minister to the next, all in an attempt to draw these “nones” into their congregation, believing that their church is somehow the exception to the rule. The trend of declining church attendance and affiliation, however, continues.

Now, for many of you, this isn’t really news. You’ve read about the so-called “nones;” you’ve heard about the overall decline in church attendance and religious affiliation. It seems one can’t pick up a magazine or open a social networking website without coming across some article about the staggering decline in religious activity. But can I tell you one thing that very few folks are writing about? Can I tell you the one thing that just might prove just how serious the whole issue is? It’s something I came across in Dr. Bass’s book, a note from a pastor named Paul:

After 20 years of parish ministry I am leaving it. My wife, who has been a faithful companion in this journey, is also leaving the church. I have resigned from all my denominational roles, and no one has said a word…Yet, we are sad to leave, because of what it means. It means to us the church has become irrelevant to us. We care about spiritual disciplines of study, worship, confession, and forgiveness, discernment, fellowship, and mission. In the church, I spent more time discussing the replacement of the church roof than on discerning our purpose as a church. We miss the liturgy [i.e. worship] and the relationships, but I do not miss the constant bickering over meaningless garbage, evening meetings, and working every weekend.[2]

You see, as much as those who are leaving the church have grown disenfranchised, disillusioned, and dissatisfied with what they have found, those of us inside the church—even those of us in the clergy—are becoming as equally dissatisfied. But why? What is it that is really causing people to leave the church? What is it that causes ministers like Paul to leave ministry after two decades? What is it that has caused so many of my friends—gifted, talented, called women and men of God—to walk away from the church they once loved and felt called to lead? What is it that is causing these troubling statistics about church attendance and religious affiliation? Well, if I knew the answer, if I held the “silver bullet” that could solve these issues and reverse the trends, I seriously doubt that I would be standing here in this pulpit this morning instead of writing books and speaking in seminaries and theological schools across this country. I do, however, have a hunch as to what a major part of the problem is, and I am convinced that Jesus’ words to us this morning speak to that problem.

Some of you may think I’m talking about Jesus’ words in verses 21-26. There Jesus takes the literal words of the law, “You shall not murder” and gets to the very heart of the matter: “But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,' you will be liable to the hell of fire.” Jesus then goes on to give an example of proactive reconciliation. With these words, Jesus emphasizes the sin of hatred, of that anger that controls our hearts and our lives and separates us from others. Jesus even speaks against the sinful, hateful act of name-calling. He equates these behaviors with murder. But I’m not talking about Jesus’ new definition of murder.

Now, I know some of you may think that I’m talking about Jesus’ words in verses 27-32, where Jesus speaks against adultery and divorce, that the core of what is wrong with our world is a misunderstanding of marriage and the seemingly high rate of adultery and divorce. It’s no secret that many Christians in this country have taken marriage as their primary, cultural concern. But I think Jesus speaks to something even deeper here: Jesus is saying to those living in a patriarchal culture that women are more than pieces of property worth just a bit more than slaves or children. Jesus is saying that women are not simply sexual objects of lust and desire. Jesus’ words are in fact quite radical, for even his words about divorce in this passage redefine the cultural practice in order to preserve the dignity of women and cause men to take their commitments to their wives much more seriously than just a simple, cultural transaction. But I’m not talking about what Jesus has to say about divorce or adultery.

Perhaps some of you caught Jesus’ words in verses 33-37 where he speaks about making vows and swearing oaths. This may seem a bit out there for some of us, because we don’t necessarily live in a culture where we make vows and swear oaths to one another on a daily basis, but Jesus’s words in verse 37 communicate something to us even now, two thousand years and thousands of miles removed from ancient Judea: “Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes' or ‘No, No'; anything more than this comes from the evil one.” Jesus is speaking of the righteousness of truth-telling, that when one is involved either in business or simple conversation with another person, he or she ought to simply tell the truth without the need to swear by something in order to get a point across. But I’m not talking about what Jesus has to say about truth-telling or swearing oaths and making vows.

No, I’m not talking about any of those things specifically. I think Jesus’ words speak to something else, something bigger, something that lies at the core of the decline in religious identity and congregational connectivity. You see, every word Jesus speaks in this portion of the Sermon on the Mount has one very important thing in common. Whether Jesus speaks about the hatred as murder, name-calling, the need for self-motivated reconciliation, adultery, lust, divorce, making vows, swearing oaths, or truth-telling, Jesus is talking about the ways in which we treat each other. In other words, every single one of Jesus’ teachings in this passage aren’t meant to be picked apart and put back together as dogmatic directives, aimed at those on the outside, those we choose to see as unlike us. No, Jesus’ words in this passage speak to the necessity of treating those around us, those like us and especially those unlike us, with the dignity of human beings created in God’s image. That is what I believe lies at the core of those troubling statistics. That is what I believe to be at the core of why people are leaving the church and religion altogether by the truckload.

People are not disappointed with the style of worship a congregation offers on Sunday morning. People are not dissatisfied by the lack of service opportunities, Bible studies, or worship services they are offered. Those who are leaving the church (and those who aren’t coming the first place) are not doing so because they don’t like Jesus and what he has to say about things. In fact, it seems that it’s actually quite the opposite: people are leaving because they find that the work of the Church doesn’t seem to line up with the words of Jesus! In fact, according to a survey done by the Barna organization in 2004, young adults outside of the church (whether they left the church or were never a part of it to begin with) had some very negative views about the Church formed, no doubt, by their own experiences with the Church: 91% of them viewed Christianity as “antihomosexual,” 87% said Christians were “judgmental,” 85% saw churchgoers as “hypocritical,” and 72% viewed Christianity as “out of touch with reality,” while only 41% thought Christianity seems “genuine or real,” and only 30% thought that it was “relevant to their life.”[3]

Now, you can chalk this up to an increasingly secular society. You can blame it on policies, politicians, celebrities, or the internet. But the truth is, we believers bear the weight of the responsibility, because we have allowed things like (in the words of Pastor Paul) “the constant bickering over meaningless garbage” to get in the way of what Christ calls us to be. We have allowed the preservation of institutions (whether they be antique brass, brick and mortar, or antiquated practices) to take the place of the mission of God. We have put the call to love our neighbor as ourselves on the back burner while trying to halt the wheels of progress and slow the passing of time. We have taken the words of Christ like the ones we have heard this morning and boiled them down to points of finite doctrine in an attempt to justify our judgment of others, all the while ignoring the real truth in what Jesus has to say to US.

If we truly want to reverse the trends, if we genuinely wish to see fewer people leaving religion, leaving the Church, then we are going to have to start being the kind of Church Christ calls us to be—and I’m not just talking about this congregation, I mean the capital “C” Church. We must live out the truth in Christ’s words we’ve heard today, that every human being is made in the image of God and therefore worthy of dignity and love. We must learn that even though the world might tell us otherwise, there is not a single soul that is above or below another, so everyone (and I mean everyone) with whom we cross paths we ought to treat with dignity and love. Jesus’ words tell us that there are no loop-holes, no fine print that sets us free to treat others as less than one made in the image of God.

So church, I want to challenge you this morning, each and every one of you, to flip the script, to refuse to do church the way we’ve always done it just because that’s the way we’ve always done it. I want to challenge you to be the kind of person Christ desires you to be: the kind of person who reserves judgment for the only One who has the authority to judge, the kind of person who shares love and kindness with others because they are made in the image of God, the kind of person who lives the faith she proclaims, the kind of person who walks the faith he talks, the kind of person who helps create the kind of church that says to those who are leaving, those who have never wanted to have a part, “we are through with wasting our energy on self-preserving habits, and we desire to live and serve in the way that Jesus call us.” I want to challenge you to be that kind of person, to be that kind of church.

The change has to start somewhere, with someone. Why can’t it be you, us, right here, today?

Let us pray…

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[1] Diana Butler Bass, Christianity after Religion: The End of Church and the Birth of a New Spiritual Awakening. Harper One: New York (2012) p.46.

[2] Bass, p.76.

[3] Bass, p.86.

True Worship (Fifth Sunday after Epiphany)

Isaiah 58:1-10

1 Shout out, do not hold back! Lift up your voice like a trumpet! Announce to my people their rebellion, to the house of Jacob their sins. 2 Yet day after day they seek me and delight to know my ways, as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness and did not forsake the ordinance of their God; they ask of me righteous judgments, they delight to draw near to God. 3 "Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?" Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day, and oppress all your workers. 4 Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high. 5 Is such the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself? Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush, and to lie in sackcloth and ashes? Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord? 6 Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? 7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin? 8 Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. 9 Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am. If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, 10 if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.

            I know this may sound like an odd question to ask at this particular time on a Sunday morning, but what does your ideal worship service look like? I mean, if it was totally, completely up to you, when the people called the First Baptist Church of Williams gather together in this room, how would you design the order of worship? What style of music would you want to hear and sing? Some of you might say, “Well, I like more contemporary music.” If that’s the case, you’d have to be a bit more specific, especially since what most congregations refer to as “contemporary” these days is generally twenty or more years old! So if you say, “contemporary” you could mean anything from the praise choruses of the ‘70s (which a colleague of mine refers to as “happy, clappy music”), to the three-chord praise-and-worship songs of the late eighties and nineties, to the more current worship compositions of people like David Crowder, Chris Thomlin, and others associated with the Passion movement.

            Of course, I have a sense many of you here (if not most of you) would respond to such an inquiry about worship music by saying something like, “I like traditional music.” There again, though, you’d have to be a bit more specific. After all, when some of you say “traditional” what you really mean are the hymns and songs written by folks like Bill and Gloria Gaither in the latter half of the twentieth century, or perhaps when you say “traditional” you’re referring to Southern Gospel songs, the kind of songs you can clap along with, that have a bit of a twang to them, and seem to always be about heaven (of course, there’s a lot of crossover with the Gaither’s and Southern Gospel music). When some of you say “traditional” you may have in mind songs from The Sacred Harp Songbook, songs often sung in the round using shape-notes, usually a cappella. Then, there are folks like me who might say they prefer “traditional” worship music, but instead of songs like those from the Heavenly Highway Hymnal or the Sacred Harp Songbook, we mean classical hymns from the Middle Ages, hymns from the Reformation (like those written by Martin Luther), or hymns from the Wesley brothers, John and Charles.

            Music style, however, is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to a service of worship. Aside from what kind of music one prefers, there’s the decisions about what kind of prayers will be involved in the service: only a few prayers acting as points of punctuation in the service, written prayers that perform specific functions throughout the service (like prayers of confession, prayers for healing, prayers for the global Church), or just one prayer to begin and one to end the whole shebang? Then there’s Scripture reading. How much Scripture should we read: just the sermon passage? All the lessons for the day listed in the Revised Common Lectionary? Perhaps just a Psalm at the beginning of the service and then the sermon passage? Believe it or not, there are even some people who question whether a sermon should be a part of a worship service! Then there are other things like children’s sermons, responsive readings, testimonies, when and how to collect the offering…you get the idea.

            The thing is, over the past couple of decades, well-meaning church folks have believed that the answer to declining church attendance and shrinking budgets has been a change in the style of worship. They believed (and many still do) that if you just add a guitar or two (or maybe take one or two away) a church will instantly become new, relevant, and full of young people with disposable incomes. Some have tried to boil all of their church issues and problems down to what happens in the hour of worship on a Sunday morning. And here’s the thing—I think I might agree with them.

            Now, I want you to hear me out. Don’t tune out because of what I’ve just said. I don’t want to hear from somebody later this week that I was talking about changing our worship style or making more changes that more people don’t like (those kinds of rumors often have an easy enough time getting started on their own in the life of a church). No, I want you to hear me out and give an ear to the prophet’s words we’ve read together in the worship of God today.
            The prophet we’ve heard is included in the book of Isaiah. I say that because many scholars believe that the book of the prophet Isaiah is actually the product of at least two or three different “Isaiah’s.” First Isaiah’s (the “real” Isaiah) words are included in chapters 1-39, where the prophet speaks about the coming judgment of God and the destruction of Judah. Second Isaiah was likely a prophet or prophets who were a part of a school of prophets that followed the teachings of the original Isaiah; Second Isaiah consists of chapters 40-54 and takes place during the end of the Babylonian captivity (some scholars include the rest of the book in Second Isaiah and make no mention of Third Isaiah). Third Isaiah follows in the tradition of the Isaiah school of prophets and takes place immediately after the return from the Babylonian captivity; Third Isaiah consists of chapters 55-66, and thus the passage before us this morning.[1]

            This prophet is speaking to a people who have returned to a Jerusalem that is much different than the one they left: the city has been ransacked, the Temple destroyed. They’ve been in the habit of trying to put their lives and their faith back together. As Andrew Foster Connors (pastor of Brown Memorial Park Avenue Presbyterian Church in Baltimore, Maryland) puts it: “They too have to rethink what it means to worship the God of Israel in a ‘post’ world: posttemple, postexile, post-Davidic monarchy.”[2] Those people were not too unlike those in the Church today who have to rethink what it means to worship God in a “post” world: a post-modern, post-religious world. In their “post” environment, these people were trying to figure out how to put things back the way they were, the way that it was before they were carted off by the Babylonians, and in doing so, they have begun using worship as a way to try to manipulate their environment. They viewed worship as a means to an end, not too unlike those today who view worship (or more precisely, worship style) as a means to rejuvenate a dying church. In either case, worship is being misused and misunderstood.

            We hear God speaking through the prophet about the people’s actions in verse 2: “…day after day they seek me and delight to know my ways, as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness and did not forsake the ordinance of their God; they ask of me righteous judgments, they delight to draw near to God.” What pastor, what church, wouldn’t want to have the sort of problem it seems God and the prophet are having?! Folks are coming to worship “day after day,” and they appear to be enjoying themselves when they come to worship: they aren’t nodding off in the pews, playing games on their smartphones, or coloring in all the letters on the worship bulletin. But something doesn’t seem to be right, because we hear from the worshippers in verse 3: "Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?" These worshippers are showing up to worship day after day. They are fasting, which is going above and beyond the call of the Torah, for there is only one mandatory fast mentioned in the Law, and that is the fast prior to Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement)![3] I mean, what more could God want from them?! These are the kinds of people who are there at the church every time the doors are open; these are the kinds of folks who sing in the choir, pray in the service, take up the collection, and sing along to every, single stanza of every, single song. These are the kinds of people who even go to every extra service: Sunday night Bible study, Wednesday night prayer meeting. Yet it seems like none of this matter to God! Why?! Because at the heart of their so-called worship, at the core of their fasts, at the root of their attendance and participation lies the rotting, sinful reality of their selfishness.

            You can hear it in God’s reply to the people in the words that follow their questions in verse 3: “Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day, and oppress all your workers. Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high. Is such the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself? Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush, and to lie in sackcloth and ashes? Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord?” These are all rhetorical questions, with expected answers in the negative. Their worship was a smokescreen. They were after their own gain. While they were at the meeting house for worship, they were forcing their employees to work. Their fasting, their praying, their worship was all a show, covering up the malice and selfishness right below the surface. And God saw all of it: God saw their worship was what it truly was…empty. In the same way, God sees through our feeble attempts to pacify some sense of self-enforced piety right to into our hearts.

            So, this begs the question: What is true worship? If showing up and going through the motions, even with the earnest of intent, is not enough, not genuine worship, then what is? What does God desire from us when we gather together for worship? The very same thing God desired from God’s people so long ago. We’re told in verse 6 and following: “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin? Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am. If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.”

            And there it is. What is true worship? It isn’t about the style. It isn’t about time or frequency. It isn’t about being there every time the doors are open to say you were present. It isn’t about praying the loudest, longest, or most eloquent prayers. It isn’t about singing the right songs and hitting the right notes. It isn’t even about putting the right amount of money in the plate when it passes by. No, worship isn’t about any of those things. Worship isn’t about what you can get out of it for yourself. Worship isn’t about being seen by others as righteous. Worship isn’t about an opportunity to put a check mark by a box that makes you a more faithful follower than the person in the pew next to you. No! Worship isn’t about anything of those things. In fact, at the end of the day, whether you want to hear it or not, worship isn’t even about you!

            Worship—and I mean real, authentic, true worship—is about God. True worship is a space where God continues to transform you into the person God is calling you to be. True worship is about hearing the call of Christ to “Come, follow me!” True worship is about letting that call go out from your pew, out from this room, out from this hour and into the lives of others. Worship is not defined by the hours posted on a church website or the limits of brick, mortar, and wood. In fact, the kind of worship God desires primarily takes place outside and away from reserved sanctuaries.

Far too often we are concerned with how we may want to change worship—a new song here, a different prayer there. We get so caught up in trying to change worship that we forget worship ought to change us! When you come into this place or any other to worship, it is a time and place where the Spirit of God molds you more into the image of God’s Son Jesus. It is a time and place where you ought to let go of more of you and take hold of more of Christ. Worship is the practice of offering all of yourself to God—not in the limited confines of one hour on a Sunday morning—in the everyday actions of compassion, of loving your neighbor. That is true worship.

            So many churches have tried to boil all of their issues down to what happens in the hour of worship on a Sunday morning. I think they’re right, but not for the reasons you might think. I think they’re right, because too often we convince ourselves that that hour of worship is about us, for us, when it ought to be about God. It ought to be a time when we are changed, empowered by the Spirit of God to show compassion and love to those outside of this room in the kind of genuine acts of worship God desires from us.

May we be people who gather together to be changed by the spirit of God in worship. May you let go of more of you and take hold of more of Christ in this space of worship. May you go forth from this place, this time of worship changed in order to change the world around you as you offer yourself to God and others in acts of true worship.

Let us pray…

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[1] John D. Watts, Word Biblical Commentary: Vol. 24 (Isaiah 1-33) Revised. Thomas Nelson, Inc.: Nashville (2005) pp.xlv-lxxxi.

[2] Andrew Foster Connors, Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 1, “Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany: Isaiah 58:1-9a(9b-12).” Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville, KY (2010) p. 316.

[3] Carol J. Dempsey, Feasting on the Word: Year A, Volume 1, “Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany: Isaiah 58:1-9a(9b-12).” Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville, KY (2010) p. 318. 

Day1

I recently had the privilege of preaching on the national radio program, Day1 (formerly "The Protestant Hour"). Day1 is a great program, a place to hear some of the best Mainline, Protestant preachers. You can find my sermon and interview here, but I hope you'll browse the site for greats like Tom Long, Fred Craddock, Barbara Brown Taylor, and many more.

Blessed? (Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany)

Matthew 5:1-12

1 When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2 Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: 3 "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 4 "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 5 "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 6 "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 7 "Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. 8 "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. 9 "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. 10 "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 11 "Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

            Isn’t it strange the way we can remember conversations we had years ago, but we can forget where we sat our coffee cup this morning? Sometimes the conversations we can recall are little more than insignificant chats about things like the cost of a gallon of milk, a preferred color of vinyl siding, or college football. Other times we can recall conversations that seem to hold more weight to us now, conversations that, after having time to soak and stew a bit, come sneaking their way back into our consciousness, rattling our brains just enough to cause us to pause and think.

            This happened to me recently, twice in fact. I recalled a conversation I had several years ago that involved two people with whom I worked: one was the director of the facility where I was working, and the other was his assistant director. Both men were married, but one of them had two children (and I think a third on the way at the time), while the other had no children, despite both he and his wife wanting to have children. They were discussing something of a high and theological nature, when the one with children said to the other, “I suppose God has just blessed me with my children…” I distinctly remember, even then, those words sounding wrong to me, as if I was listening to someone learning to speak English, but they were getting the vocabulary and conjugation wrong. 

            I can also recall a similar conversation I had with a colleague not too many years ago. For whatever reason, we were talking about the subject of families, and he said to me, “Well, God blessed me with a good family, great parents, grandparents, and siblings.” Again, there was something about that that just didn’t sit right with me. It seemed to suggest to me that God didn’t bless other people—other children—with good parents, as if those children didn’t deserve good parents, but instead, they were cursed with absent, lazy, or abusive parents.

Now, to be fair, I know neither of these men meant to be mean spirited or provocative with their words, but for so long it frustrated me that their comments didn’t quite ring true. It bothered me that I was bothered by the notion of God blessing some people with children and God blessing some children with good parents. Then I realized what it was that was really at the heart of my frustration: that word blessing. Think about it for a minute, is there not another word in out baptized vocabulary that is as misused and over-used as the word bless or blessing? After all, what do you call that little, quick prayer that you say before eating a meal (or at least before you eat big family meals or meals when the preacher comes over)? The blessing. What do you say about someone who can sing with a lovely voice? “God has really blessed her with a beautiful talent.” Or what about this: what do folks in this part of the country say to someone when they put their foot in their mouth, when they do something that borders on ridiculous, or when it seems they’ve been dealt an unfair hand in the more provincial things in life? “Well, bless your heart!”

Of course, none of this even comes close to the gross misuse of the word and idea by those who proclaim the gospel of prosperity. These pushers of profit-driven propaganda throw around the word blessing in a way that is synonymous with excessive wealth and miraculous health to the point of being gaudy. Their mantra is “Name it. Claim it.” Their motto is “Make God your choice, and He’ll give you a Rolls Royce!” Their understanding of blessing is found in financial abundance, in the notion that, if God is going to bless you, it’s going to be in large amounts of plain, good, ol’ fashioned money! Of course, we shouldn’t be too hard on these prosperity preachers. After all, not all of us who want to distance ourselves from their beliefs and language are innocent of using their vernacular when it comes to speaking about God’s blessing (especially when pledge drives and building funds rise to the top of our “to-do” lists).

If we’re honest with ourselves, we’ll have to admit that this is how most of us understand blessings. We see them as material manifestations of God’s favor, and they’re the type of manifestations that make us happier, more comfortable. They’re the types of things that are given to us or happen to us in this plane of existence because we have somehow either merited God’s favor or God has predetermined to bless us. But when we hear these words from Jesus, these Beatitudes, they don’t really seem to support such an understanding of blessing, do they? Perhaps we’ve heard them too often, maybe even had to memorize them for Sunday school once or twice, and now the beatitudes sound almost too familiar to us, like an old song played so often we just sing along without ever really stopping to think about the words.

So I want us to stop and really listen to them again. Listen to Jesus as he defines for us what it means to be blessed and to whom such blessings belong.  "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.” Do these sound like the kind of people who we might call blessed?! The poor, the mourning, the meek, the righteousness-starved, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, the persecuted: this reads more like a list of those who are either at the bottom of the ladder or living in some sort of self-deprived state of misplaced piety. There is certainly no way we’d ever dream of calling someone living on the streets “blessed.” There’s no way we’d say of those whose hearts break with the weight of death and the world’s injustices: “My, they are just so blessed!” Turn on the news, open a newspaper, those who shout out the cry for war and grand shows of power are the ones whose names grace the headlines, theirs are the names written on the million-dollar checks—not those seeking to make peace! As for those who show mercy, well we wouldn’t call them blessed. No, behind closed doors we’re more likely to call them gullible, bleeding heart, fools!

It’s been that way for centuries. People have measured blessings in power, money, and influence for hundreds (if not thousands) of years. Yet, the first things Jesus teaches his disciples in this discourse we call the Sermon on the Mount, is that in the Kingdom of Heaven, blessings are measured out on our scales; no, they are measured out on scales of God’s righteousness. And those blessings aren’t simple, temporary, monetary manifestations of wealth, health, and prosperity—they are blessings of eternal weight and significance. After all, Jesus doesn’t say, “Blessed are these folks, for God’s going to rain down financial abundance upon them…Blessed are these other folks, because God’s got a check with their name on it and it’s in the mail…Blessed are these folks over here, for God is going to heal their bodies and restore their reputation among their peers.” Jesus doesn’t say anything like that; the kinds of things we may think of as blessings are absent from Jesus’ list. Instead, Jesus promises the Kingdom of Heaven, consolation, a global inheritance, fulfilment, mercy, the promise of seeing God, and being called children of God. These are the kinds of blessings that are without measure. These are the kinds of blessings that can only come from God!

These are the kinds of blessings we ought to be seeking in our lives. Too often, we can be overtaken by the desire for more wealth, more power, more influence, more recognition, more of what the world would have us to think are blessings. All the while, we miss out on what God has for us. So, while these beatitudes may be in the indicative (making statements about who is blessed and how), they are in another way imperative (calling us to be those kind of people who receive God’s blessings). This is part of the Good News Jesus came to proclaim to the world: those whom the world may have deemed cursed, God has blessed. This is also part of the call to follow Jesus: to be people who walk a mile in the shoes of the poor, who mourn with those whose hearts are broken by tragedy and the overall sadness of a world lost in selfishness, to be a meek people who hunger for justice in a world where people are still treated as less than human because of traits beyond their choosing, people who show mercy when the world cries for retribution and payback, to be the pure-hearted, selfless, people of God who seek to make peace in the world even in the face of violence and persecution.  As much as these beatitudes tell us of God’s blessings, they tell us of how we are called to live as God’s blessed people.

God is calling us to be God’s blessed people. God is calling you to be blessed. God is calling you, though, to a different kind of blessing than you may expect, for it is not the kind of blessing that pads your bank account. It’s not the kind of blessing that can be measured over against the so-called blessings of others. God is calling each and every one of us to live the kind of blessed life we see outlined in the words from Jesus in Matthew’s gospel this morning. May we each seek to be those people God calls blessed.

Let us pray…

To Fulfill All Righteousness (Baptism of Our Lord)

Matthew 3:13-17

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14 John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" 15 But Jesus answered him, "Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." Then he consented. 16 And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. 17 And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."

            In September of 2005 I had a rather unique experience. I was invited to sit in with a group of other students at Samford on a conversation with a well-known and very well-respected Christian author. Now, to tell the truth, I had no idea who the author was. I had friends who were telling me how excited they were that this guy was coming to speak in chapel, and I had friends who were asking me if I had ever read this guy’s books (I hadn’t). Apparently, this guy was a big deal, so I decided I wouldn’t blow off the event.

            The day came. I woke up from a nap I had taken after class that afternoon just in time to run over to SIM Forum and plop down in one of the leather chairs there in that wood-paneled room. In a chair next to me was an older fellow who looked a little out of place: his white hair looked like he may have brushed it that morning before walking in the wind of the day; he was wearing a white, button-down shirt that could have stood a good press, and his pants were patched together with bits of red and black bandanas. I figured he was a visitor, perhaps a guest of a professor (or maybe even one of those eccentric sort of professors you see in the movies), or, I thought, maybe he’s one of those older students you only see on campus later in the day, perhaps going to late classes and needing these sorts of events in order to fulfil university degree requirements.

Whoever he was, I decided it would be rude to just sit there beside him without saying anything as folks slowly filled the room, so I struck up some small talk with him. I’m sure I said something about the weather and how boring these sorts of things could be. I think I even said something about how I had never really heard of the guy we were all supposed to be there to hear and talk to. I think I remember him just simply smiling. I’m sure I said something like, “Well, whoever he is, I expect it’ll be a good time.” He said, “I sure hope so.”

About that time, my friend Brian (one of the ministers in Student Ministries and the facilitator of the event) walked over to the older man next to me and said, “Mr. Manning, I think we’ve got everyone here; if you’re ready to start, we’ll begin.” The old man I was sitting next to was none other than Brennan Manning, our guest for the evening, and a man whose books like The Ragamuffin Gospel, Abba’s Child, and The Furious Longing of God (just to name a few) have influenced countless believers in their faith journeys. In the world of Christian spirituality, Brennan Manning was (and still is) a giant. His grace and humility, however, hid his fame and renown from one who had never heard of him before. Needless to say, I was a bit embarrassed, but Manning, with immense kindness, simply smiled. Perhaps he was used to his presence being a bit underwhelming to those who had never met him before.

I wonder if there were those who shared that sort of surprised embarrassment that day all those years ago standing by the Jordan River. Perhaps they had been lured to the river by curiosity (whether it was their own or the curiosity of friends), and found themselves standing among the ever-gathering crowd of those who were coming out from Jerusalem and all of Judea. As they listened to this wild-looking man stand in the water preaching about repentance and calling down those Pharisees and Sadducees, I wonder what ideas, what images, ran across their minds when they heard John say in those two verses prior to our reading this morning: "I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

            Think about it for a moment: John is saying there is someone coming after him—a main event to his opening act—who is more powerful than John, one who will baptize WITH FIRE. This sounds like one incredibly powerful and intimidating individual, one who just may appear cloaked in flames with a sinister-looking pronged-fork in his hand. John’s description gives one the picture of an individual who is coming with recognizable power, one whose presence will be easily recognized, especially given the public display of John’s baptisms.

            Yet, Matthew doesn’t tell us about some great, powerful appearance of this one of whom John spoke. No, Matthew simply tells us in verse 13: “Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him.” One gets the impression Jesus was simply standing in among the crowd of those who had come to be baptized, and after John’s prophetic proclamation he simply, humbly, may his way down into the water.

            Perhaps as he had been in line, waiting with the other baptismal candidates, someone may have said something to him like, “Boy, I hope this other fellow who baptizes with fire gets here after I’ve been baptized, because I think I’d like water better!” Or perhaps someone had poked him in the ribs and said, “Get a load of this guy! Going on and on about someone so powerful he can’t even carry the other guy’s shoes. I’d rather hear from that guy if he’s so much better.” Can you imagine how they all must have felt when, after all of John’s hype, Jesus steps out of the crowd—not in a fiery display of John’s prophesied words, but—with the quiet humility of one coming for baptism?

            I imagined it shocked them, puzzled them, and made them scratch their heads. I know Jesus’ actions there at the Jordan still cause us to wonder exactly what was going on. It definitely gave John a reason to pause and even argue a bit with Jesus. Matthew tells us in verse 14: “John would have prevented him, saying, ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’" Perhaps John wanted to save himself the embarrassment of baptizing the one whom he just claimed to be more powerful than him. Maybe John, having known all along who Jesus was, thought it was unnecessary and even backwards that he should baptize Jesus. Whatever the case, John tried to prevent Jesus from being baptized, and what happened next may have shocked John and those watching on the banks of the river as much as the subtle way Jesus appeared among them. “But Jesus answered him, ‘Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then [John] consented. And when Jesus had been baptized…”

            What did Jesus mean when he said, “…it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness”? One might quickly jump to some conclusion that Jesus is saying that he needs to be baptized in order to be made righteous, to show that he has repented of any wrongdoing. But that is inconsistent with what we know and believe about Jesus—in the words of the author of Hebrews: “[Jesus is one] who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin.” Christ had no sins for which to repent, and thus no need to be baptized in an expression of such repentance.

            I think we may find the meaning behind Jesus’ words in the scene that unfolds AFTER he is baptized by John: “…just as [Jesus] came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’” In one awesome moment, we see all persons of the Trinity present: the Spirit descending like a dove, the newly baptized Son, and the voice of the Father, a voice that expresses the Father’s pleasure in his Son…after he has been baptized. What is it about this event—Jesus’ baptism—that is so important, so awesome, that the Father speaks from heaven and the Holy Spirit descends? What is it about this event that garners such divine, Trinitarian attention? Why is this the moment when the Father declares his pleasure in his Son Jesus?

            Because this is the moment when Jesus shows us whose side he’s on. There, at the Jordan River, Jesus has every right to stand in the place of John, shouting for repentance, shaking his finger at those hypocritical Pharisees and Sadducees. There, at the Jordan, Jesus would have been within his divine right to walk across the sin-tainted water and proclaim to those sin-stained gawkers on the shore that they were all bound to a train that would bust hell wide-open. Jesus could have stood above all the lowly sinners there at that river and put them all in their place concerning their relative positions in righteousness. In the words of the late New Testament scholar, Leon Morris: “Jesus might well have been up there in front standing with John and calling on sinners to repent. Instead he was down there with the sinners, affirming his solidarity with them, making himself one with them in the process of the salvation that he would in due course accomplish.”[1] In other words, there at the Jordan River, Jesus makes it clear whose side he’s on—he’s on the side of sinners.

            Jesus is on the side of sinners. That’s the statement he makes there in the water. At his baptism, Jesus identifies with us sinners. At his baptism, Jesus shows us that the kingdom of God is a kingdom founded on humility and selflessness. In his baptism, Jesus puts actions to the words of one of the earliest hymns of the Church, recorded by the apostle Paul in his epistle to the Philippians: “Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.  Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

            With his baptism, Jesus shows that he is on the side of sinners. He’s on your side, our side. What that means for us is that God is on our side, that God identifies with the sinners. It means that whenever you begin to feel that your place is above those you deem to be unrighteous or unworthy, when you feel that your place is above ANYONE ELSE, you ought to remember whose side Jesus is on. Whenever you feel as if you have earned the right to cast judgment on others, whenever you feel as if you are entitled to a position of power and influence within the church or outside in the world, remember that the only One who truly holds such power willingly gave it up to show His love for you. The only one who holds the power to create time and space, once went under the waters of baptism to show his love and devotion to sinners. He once was baptized by his cousin in a muddy river in order to fulfill all righteousness by siding with the sinners he came to save.

Let us pray…

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[1] Leon Morris, The Gospel According to Matthew (The Pillar New Testament Commentary). Eerdmans Publishing Company: Grand Rapids, MI (1992) p.65.

The Way Back Home (Second Sunday of Christmastide/Sunday before Epiphany)

Jeremiah 31:7-14

7 For thus says the Lord: Sing aloud with gladness for Jacob, and raise shouts for the chief of the nations; proclaim, give praise, and say, "Save, O Lord, your people, the remnant of Israel." 8 See, I am going to bring them from the land of the north, and gather them from the farthest parts of the earth, among them the blind and the lame, those with child and those in labor, together; a great company, they shall return here. 9 With weeping they shall come, and with consolations I will lead them back, I will let them walk by brooks of water, in a straight path in which they shall not stumble; for I have become a father to Israel, and Ephraim is my firstborn. 10 Hear the word of the Lord, O nations, and declare it in the coastlands far away; say, "He who scattered Israel will gather him, and will keep him as a shepherd a flock." 11 For the Lord has ransomed Jacob, and has redeemed him from hands too strong for him. 12 They shall come and sing aloud on the height of Zion, and they shall be radiant over the goodness of the Lord, over the grain, the wine, and the oil, and over the young of the flock and the herd; their life shall become like a watered garden, and they shall never languish again. 13 Then shall the young women rejoice in the dance, and the young men and the old shall be merry. I will turn their mourning into joy, I will comfort them, and give them gladness for sorrow. 14 I will give the priests their fill of fatness, and my people shall be satisfied with my bounty, says the Lord.

            Take AL Highway 21 south past Sylacauga where it merges with U.S. Highway 231. Stay on that highway all the way into Montgomery and follow 231 into Troy. In Troy, you’ll take a right by the Kangaroo station, then a left by Wiley Sanders Trucking Company, heading towards Pike County Lake (it’s a bit of a shortcut). That road ends on AL Highway 167, where you’ll turn right and head south straight into my hometown, Enterprise. That’s the way we travel when we go to visit family for the holidays; it’s the way home. Sure, a few things have changed on that route over the years: service stations get new paint jobs along with new names, a shopping center or two opens, a shopping center or two closes, a Jack’s pops up here, while a Zaxby’s pops up there…but the way itself has always been the same.

            We took that way home about a week and a half ago. Right after our Christmas Eve service here at the church, Sallie and I stopped by our house, loaded our pets and bags in the truck, and headed south on the way home, and we made pretty good time too, getting into to my mother-in-law’s house just after ten o’clock. During our time there we traveled to my uncle’s house to meet with my mom’s family for Christmas, then out to my dad’s house to be with that side of my family, and before we left, we trekked out to my mom’s house. We travelled on roads by which I had travelled all my life—the way home (whether to my mom’s house or my dad’s) was a way I could travel without reminder, without the need of a map or GPS navigation. And while many things had changed about my hometown, the way to parents’ houses was still pretty much the same (save a new traffic light or two).

            I imagine human beings have shared in this sort of homing instinct for centuries. In some strange way, our minds have a way of mapping out the way home, of tracing the route in our hearts so that street names and landmarks are no longer needed in order to navigate the course home. Perhaps it’s because the very idea of home is something so central to what we are as humans in the first place. We’re not necessarily prone to migration, and even if we move around as individuals, there is still some sense of “home” we carry with us wherever we may be, some sense of a place where we came from, some sense of a place where we may one day return.

            It is precisely that sense of home to which the prophet Jeremiah speaks in passage we’ve read together today. For the first twenty-nine chapters of the book bearing his name, the prophet Jeremiah unyieldingly prophesied against rising apostasy, increasing moral erosion, and the ethical deterioration of the southern kingdom of Judah. Hardly a century prior to his prophetic arrival, the northern kingdom of Israel had fallen to the Assyrians; the prophesied punishment for that nation’s blatant disregard of God and his calling. Jeremiah speaks of God’s coming judgment upon the people, but in chapters 30 and 31 (the so-called “Book of Consolations” within the book of the prophet Jeremiah) the prophet seems to pause in the midst of prophetic pronunciations in order to offer some words of hope, some exhortations to God’s people that indeed, one day, they will find the way home once more. 

            One can hear this promise in the words of Jeremiah in verses 7 and 8: “For thus says the Lord: Sing aloud with gladness for Jacob, and raise shouts for the chief of the nations; proclaim, give praise, and say, ‘Save, O Lord, your people, the remnant of Israel.’ See, I am going to bring them from the land of the north, and gather them from the farthest parts of the earth, and in verse 10: “Hear the word of the Lord, O nations, and declare it in the coastlands far away; say, ‘He who scattered Israel will gather him, and will keep him as a shepherd a flock.’" Jeremiah speaks of God’s redemption of Judah, a time when they will no longer endure the punishment of iniquity in exile, a time when they will return from every corner of the earth to which they had been scattered.

            What’s more, it won’t only be those who had been exiled from Judah who will return. Oh no! Jeremiah’s words speak of a greater hope even than that. In speaking of God’s leading the people by brooks of water, in this wonderful, loving language of God leading the people like a shepherd as they rejoice in the goodness of the Lord, in the abundance of grain, wine, and oil, as the young women dance and the men make merry, as the prophet speaks of a time so abundant that the priests shall get fat just from the offerings from the people, Jeremiah speaks of a time when ALL of God’s people will be united once more. In other words, Jeremiah isn’t simply speaking a word of consolation to the people of the southern kingdom in order to give them hope that one day their kingdom would “get back to normal.” No, Jeremiah’s words speak about a time when both kingdoms—all twelve tribes of Israel—will be reunited in joy and prosperity. Not only that, but ALL THE PEOPLE from those kingdoms and tribes will be reunited in joy and prosperity.

            Maybe you didn’t catch it at first; it’s a small phrase from the prophet at the end of verse 8 where he talks about those who will return from the farthest parts of the earth: “among them the blind and the lame, those with child and those in labor, together; a great company, they shall return here.” The blind, the lame, people with children, women in labor…If you were standing in line at the airport behind these people what would be the first thing to come into your mind (tell the truth, because you’re in church!)? “Ugh! These folks slow everybody down. Why can’t they take a different way? Should they even be traveling in the first place?”

Sometimes, in order to really get the brunt of the Lord’s words spoken through one of the prophets, we have to be brutally honest with ourselves, dropping the context of sitting in a church pew after having sung hymns about the great mystery of God or the glory of heaven. We have to peel back the biblical layers and allow ourselves to feel the way those first listeners felt when they heard the prophetic words. You see, the citizens of the southern kingdom have been told that there is coming a day when they will travel the way home and be reunited with those who have been scattered to the corners of the earth. The thing is, though, those who have been scattered were from the northern kingdom, a rival nation. And not only that, they’ll have to be reunited with those who are flawed (“the blind”), those who are problematic and burdensome (“the lame”), and those will only likely get in the way and cause headaches (“those with children and those in labor”). This might not be what they want when they’ve made it back on the way home.

I’d be willing to bet, though, that most—if not all—of us in this place today have felt the very same way recently. You see, the way home may be engraved in our mind, and our desire to be there may be great, but chances are when we arrive we realize that in the midst of all of those we love, all of those whom we have longed to see, there are those who drive us just outside the edge of crazy. When we arrive on the way back home, we may find that there are those who we don’t know at all, those who we may have hoped had long since moved on. In the midst of joy and prosperity we may find those with whom we would rather not share it.

You see, that’s the gospel truth at the center of Jeremiah’s words here. (That’s the gospel truth represented by the arrival of the Magi at the home of the Christ-child.) When we find the way home, the way of salvation in Jesus Christ, we join countless others on that way, and those countless others may not be the kind of folks with whom we hope to be reunited someday! There are those whom God is bringing back to God’s self from the corners of the earth and every nook and cranny of human history who, like the blind, may seem flawed, handicapped, disabled, or whatever label we care to give them, but God is calling them home by the way of Christ just as God is calling you. There are those whom God is bringing back who, like the lame, may seem broken, problematic, or a hassle, but God is calling them home by the way of Christ just as God is calling you. There are those who, like those with children and those in labor, who may seem to you to be more trouble than they are worth, as those who can only get in the way and slow things down, but God is calling them home just as God is calling you.

Isn’t that really what the good news of Jesus Christ is all about? God is bringing all of God’s people together, from every corner of the earth, from every station in life, from every socio-economic level, from every nation, tribe, race, and tongue. God is calling us ALL to take the way back home, the way of Christ Jesus and the eternal love of God. May you this day answer God’s call, come and follow Jesus on the way back home, and be reunited with all of God’s people (maybe even those you might not like).

Let us pray…

More than a Prophet (Third Sunday of Advent, 2013)

Matthew 11:2-11

2 When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples 3 and said to him, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" 4 Jesus answered them, "Go and tell John what you hear and see: 5 the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. 6 And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me." 7 As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: "What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? 8 What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. 9 What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. 10 This is the one about whom it is written, "See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.' 11 Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.

            Where do you find joy? That can be a philosophical question. You may say something like, “I find joy in the laughter of a child,” or “I find joy in the unnoticed blessings of clear night sky.” That can be a more active question for some of you. You might say you find joy in the rhythmic action of casting a line and reeling in a hook, or you might say you find joy in the satisfaction of fixing something with your own two hands.

Still, for others, that can be a very literal question, like that scene in my favorite movie Forrest Gump when Forrest runs into Lt. Dan in New York City after a television appearance about his ping pong travels in China. Lt. Dan begins to complain about the way the other vets are always asking him about Jesus, and he looks at Forrest and says, “Have you found Jesus, Gump?” and Forrest replies, “I didn’t know I was supposed to be looking for him.” That’s how some of us hear the question, “Where do you find joy?” You may find joy in a tree stand on a cold December morning, or you may find joy on a quiet morning on the golf course. You may find joy around the table at Momma and Daddy’s house after church on Sunday. There may be many locations, places where you find joy, but the last place I think any of us would expect to find it is in a jail cell.

As much as we may try to fool ourselves into thinking jail is gravy train with biscuit wheels (with three meals a day, cable television, and all the workout equipment one could ever want) it is still jail, still a place of separation and confinement, a place where few (if any) would ever go looking for signs of joy. But on this third Sunday of Advent, we find ourselves in a jail cell—and not the sort with indoor plumbing, a mattress, bed linens, and modern temperature controls—a jail cell in ancient Judea. There, perhaps squatting on the floor in the corner, we find (not joy) but what’s left of that emboldened preacher from last week at the Jordan River.

John (like a number of us preachers) has gotten himself in trouble by opening his mouth. He had preached against the recent actions of Herod Antipas (one of the Tetrarchs of Judea, son of Herod the Great), particularly his taking his brother’s wife. In retaliation, John was imprisoned and eventually beheaded. In that jail cell, John has had time to think—maybe too much time to think—and so he sends word by some of his disciples to Jesus (the one whom he had only recently proclaimed as “the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” in the first chapter of the Fourth Gospel). He asks, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Are you really the one I claimed you are? Are you really the one whose sandals I’m not fit to carry? Are you really the one about whom the angel told Mary with tidings of comfort and joy? Are you really the one who is to come, or should we hang on and wait for someone else?

You can understand where John is coming from, can’t you? He’s stuck his neck out preaching about an increasingly close kingdom; he’s stuck his neck out proclaiming Jesus as the Lamb of God, and now he’s about to stick his neck out far enough to have his head removed from it! “Look Jesus, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’, because if so, then I need to get myself out of this joyless jail and head out looking for him!”

Jesus gets word of John’s question, and in typical Jesus fashion he responds without really answering his question: "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me." Now, if I had been John, sitting in that cell, waiting for my inevitable execution, I believe I would have taken such a response from Jesus with at least a tinge of frustration. After all, Jesus’ response may sound hopeless, void of joy, to one who is waiting out life in a cold cell. I believe I might have replied by saying something like, “Good for the blind! Good for the lame! I’m proud for all those lepers and the deaf! What a sight it must be to see the dead come back to life, and I’m glad the poor have another bleeding heart to tell them good news! But what about ME Jesus?! What about that whole notion of setting the captives free?!” Thankfully, I wasn’t John, for I have a feeling John heard what he needed to hear in the jail cell; I think in those reaffirming words from Jesus, John found joy—a joy that came with the assurance that Jesus was indeed the one who was to come.

But Jesus isn’t finished with us in this passage yet. For after he sends word back to John, he turns his focus to the crowd: "What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written, ‘See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.' Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” Perhaps word had gotten around that John was beginning to have doubts about Jesus, or maybe news of his imprisonment was causing doubt in others. Either way, Jesus’ words ring with a tone of rebuke: “What’d you expect to see out in the country, wading in the creek? An agitator? A rabble rouser? Maybe you expected to see a televangelist on a big, gold chair with big, pink hair? Did you expect to see a prophet, one proclaiming the word of the Lord and the coming day of God? Well you got that, and I aim to tell you, you got more than that! You got the one who other prophets only hinted at! You went out and saw more than a prophet!”

Now, I don’t know if those words got back to John, but if they did, maybe he felt a slight swelling of pride as his cousin proclaimed how great he was, how John was head and shoulders above every person ever born. But those last words may have been a bit confusing, troubling even: “yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” Nobody born up to that point was greater than John the Baptist, but Jesus said John was least in the kingdom of heaven. John was more than a prophet, but least in the kingdom. What a humbling expression! John the Baptist, the cousin of Jesus, the one who was greater than all men born up to his lifetime (that presumably includes Abraham, Moses, David, and all the other prophets) was least in the kingdom. That has to make you wonder where you stack up, doesn’t it?

I think in some way, that’s the point. You see, in the Fourth Gospel (John), chapter three, verse 30 John the Baptist says this about Jesus: “He must increase, but I must decrease." I don’t suppose John thought he’d decrease all the way to the bottom of the list of those in God’s kingdom. Nevertheless, John got it with that expression: “He must increase, but I must decrease." That’s what discipleship is all about: decreasing ourselves and increasing Christ. Letting go of what defines us as us, and taking hold of what defines Christ. In the end, that’s the only true way to find joy (even in a jail cell).  The only true way to find joy is to let go of all those things that define you (pride, ego, selfishness, service, titles, awards, distinctions, habits, addictions…) and take hold of all those things that Christ freely offers to us all (hope, peace, joy, love, salvation…).

As John sat in that cell, I’m sure it was hard for him to find joy. As the people of God longed for a messiah, I’m sure it was hard for them to find joy in a world that seemed to continually punish them. On a day like today, in a week like this, I know it’s hard to find joy, and I know it can be hard to think let go of what defines us, what defines our loved ones and friends. But just as John was more than a prophet, we are more than whatever label we choose to give ourselves, or whatever labels others may try to impose upon us. We are children of God. We are the beloved of God.

Jesus calls John least in the kingdom because it seemed John was just starting to get it: “He must increase, but I must decrease,” and yet he still struggled with faith: "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Jesus is the one who came; he came in manger, to the most unlikely of parents in a backwater province of ancient Judea. Jesus is the one who is to come; he is coming as the Church lives the gospel, as believers share the love of Christ in word and deed, as the day of resurrection draws closer. We don’t have to wait for another. We simply wait for the one who told us he’s coming again, and we wait with an inexplicable joy. We wait with the anticipation of those who long to see sisters, brothers, parents, children, and friends who have gone before us. We wait, knowing that the place we find joy is in the loving presence of our God, in the presence of the Holy Spirit, even in this place this morning.

May you find joy as you decrease so that Christ may increase, and may you find that inexplicable awesome joy today.

Let us pray…