Devotion - Thursday, September 27

The appointed readings have for the past several weeks been making their way through Job.  Job is a difficult book to read; both because of its content and the language used.

The content is painful - Job is lifted up by God as an example of a faithful servant.  Satan (this is one of only three times in the Old Testament where Satan acts) seeks God's permission to remove Job's blessings, sure that Job only follows God out of self-interest.  And thus begins Job's suffering.

The language reflects the values and the life of persons of ancient near east.  So his examples and images often miss us.

Job pleads his case, throughout the book.  He insists what we (the reader) knows, but what is questioned by his friends.  Job returns to his innocence.  He repeats that he has done nothing to deserve the ills which have come his way.

"Have I eaten my morsel alone?" he asks.

Job had not refused to feed the hungry.  He had shared the fleece of his sheep.  Into his care we welcomed the one who was fatherless.  Job has not "eaten his morsel alone."

While not meaning to re-insert into our lives any notion of righteousness born of merit, I would ask us to consider Job's claim and ask whether we would be able to join his mantra.  Have we shared, or "eaten our morsel alone"?  We will not merit God's grace by feeding the hungry, but surely if we have become aware that all we have is a gift from God, then we ought to be more generous in sharing.

Job is a good example of what I shared during last night's LCM program.  He allows God (and even his friends) to hold up a mirror so that he can look honestly at his life and his service to God.  How willing are we to look into that mirror, and have an honest assessment of our willingness to share our bread?

Devotion - Wednesday, September 26

The issue of sacrifice remains present in my readings from Acts and John.  The threat which Paul had encountered becomes real.  In Acts 14:19 we read that he is stoned.  They assume he is dead and drag him out of the city.   When he is surrounded by his disciples, he rises and goes on to teach the Word of God.

Jesus recieves word that Lazarus is ill.  He decides to return to Bethany, to assist him.  Warnings that the crowd there were hostile and threatening do nothing to dissuade him from returning.  Thomas, called the Twin, says to his fellow disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die with him."

I was in a conversation yesterday with a colleague.  The congregation where he serves is in an uproar about changing the time of worship.  "What has happened?  That the time of worship leads to persons deciding to leave the congregation?" he asked.  Most congregations moved to two services as a way to stave off building projects.  But as numbers have gone down, we cling to two services, one which occupies 40% of the space; another which fills 30%.  Both services feel empty and the congregation lacks a unity which can allow for guiding itself into the future.  Moving to one unified worship service seems to be a good thing to do.

My friend went on; "Nothing happens in the Kingdom of God without sacrifice.  If people are willing to sacrifice the time of day when they come to worship, what are they willing to sacrifice?"

I reflected yesterday that it is unlikely we will be called upon to face a stoning.  But we are called upon to sacrifice - to set aside our personal interest, our desires, our convenience - for the sake of proclaiming the Good News.  Transformed by the grace of God, we are called upon to sacrifice in order that others might experience this grace.

Paul is stoned; Jesus will not allow the threat of death to keep him from Lazarus.  What are you prepared to give - today and every day - for the sake of the Kingdom of God?

Devotion - Tuesday, September 25

This morning's offering is partially a reflection on the appointed readings for today, and partially reaction to the "Faith vs Science" presentation we co-hosted last night.

First, scripture.  I read this morning from Acts 14 and from John 10.  In both, there is mention of "stoning."  The early Christians seemed to be in continual threat of being silenced by this means.  Paul and Barnabas flee Iconium in order to avoid stoning.  When Jesus speaks of himself as the Son of God, they take up stones against him.

As one who follows in the tradition of Paul and Barnabus (a preacher) I am glad that stoning seems to have gone out of vogue.  Though I do sometimes worry that stoning would return, should the preacher get to the heart of the matter, rather than tip-toeing around the edges of the message.  There were a few moments last evening when a few select individuals seemed to be gathering up stones.  A few were thrown toward an imagined Christianity.  

This morning, in my prayers, I returned to last night's experience.  I had felt pain - not pain associated with any stones that might have landed on me as a Christian preacher, but the pain which gave rise to the desire to cast a stone my way.  I am not so sure that Christians are the ones under attack; in too many instances we are the ones who are the aggressor.

By this I am referring to the public face of Christianity.  When one person asked, "Why aren't there more opportunities to ask probing questions of God and theology and the Church?" I wanted to shout, "That is what we do every Wednesday and Tuesday and Sunday in LCM!"  But I realized that he might not perceive us that way.  His perception is that we gather in order to sure up our own arguments and condemn those who might feel differently.  Too many stones have been cast his way for him to trust.

Let us all put down our stones.  We have too little time to waste any of it on any actions which divide us.

Devotion - Monday, September 25

Our retreat this weekend will have as its theme "God in the Movies."  We will discuss two movies ("The Invention of Lying",and "The Mission") but there is something theological in practically every movie you see.

Last night I got hooked into watching a movie on the SyFy Channel.  It was titled "The Mist."  There is a secret government project outside this little town.  One evening there is a huge wind and electrical storm.  The next day a mist comes down the mountain and covers the town.  We slowly learn that the secret project involved opening a "window" to other worlds.  One character observes, "Or a door."  Strange, powerful, and deadly creatures begin to make their way out of The Mist - killing the persons locked inside the grocery store.

There is a local woman considered crazy.  She sees in the events the end of time and God's judgement.  She sees in The Mist the retribution which comes as a result of misguided human action.

The main character is not of that mindset.  He mounts an attempt to escape, along with his five year old son and three others.  Which almost works till his Rover runs out of gas.  The final scene involves the five persons sitting in the useless car, surrounded by The Mist, and realizing they only have four bullets for the gun.  

The man shoots the others and steps out of the car to await his fate.  He cries for it to be over.

And The Mist lifts.  There are soldiers, and survivors.

The crazy woman's ravings aside, the movie is a powerful exploration of what is unleashed on the world when we conduct "secret" actions.  Jesus said that darkness is preferred by those who have little regard for others.

That final scene will haunt me for weeks to come.  Sometimes even the actions we do with a pure and caring heart result in horror.  Original sin is a statement about our inability to break free from the cycle of unintended consequences.

The themes of the Bible and theology are fodder for practically every movie written.  Discovering them isn't all that difficult.  Opening our lives to their insights and lessons is the difficult thing to do.

Sermon - September 23, 2012

17^th Sunday in Pentecost – Year B  

Mark 9:30-37 

                                                                         Afraid to Ask 

Note:  As the children are coming forward for their time, ask the congregation to recall a question they asked during the past week.  It would be helpful if they could write it down.  Any question.  They could even confer with the person sitting beside them – since what comes next in the liturgy isn’t aimed at them anyway. 

We you able to remember a question you asked during the past week?  What are some examples – quickly….   

All questions share some things in common, but there are also great differences among the questions we ask.  Some questions are asked with the expectation that a simple, clear answer will be given.  An example of that (taken from my own life this week) was when Jenna Washburn asked me where she would go in the town of Shelby, NC, to register to vote.  Having been to the Cleveland County Courthouse on a number of occasions, I could answer her question with a clear, precise piece of information.  This is one example of questions intended to obtain a simple piece of information. 

Other questions differ.  Jenna’s question arose out of our LCM Program on Wednesday night.  Dr. Laura Olsen, Political Science Professor at Clemson, was our guest presenter.  During her talk, Dr. Olsen was asked a number of questions.  One of them went something along the lines of “Do you think the Political Parties avoid reaching out to college age voters because their voting records are so predictable?”  This question, unlike the one asked by Jenna, had no expectation of a clear, precise answer.  There might have been a bit of a challenge to her presentation, included in the question.  This question was more of an invitation to discussion and dialogue.   

Last week’s appointed Gospel text included questions of both types.  Do you remember last Sunday’s Gospel?  It began with Jesus asking the disciples, “Who do people say that I am?”  That is a question which can be answered with clear, precise pieces of information.  But the second question Jesus asks them is different.  He asks them, “But who do you say that I am?”  There are simple answers to that question, but there is nothing simple about the answer.  It is the type of question which opens a whole new world of discussion and discovery. 

Good questions; great questions.  Today’s Gospel lesson exposes yet a third type of question.  If you still have your pencils and your bulletins, maybe you could underline or circle it.  We come across it in the thirty-second verse.  See it? There are questions with clear, precise answers; there are questions which invite us to discussion and dialogue; and, there are questions which we are afraid to ask. 

Mark 9:32 tells us, “They did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.”   

It is difficult to understand context (and context is so important) when all you have on a Sunday morning is the few verses printed on the back of the bulletin.  If you have a bible on your smart phone, I won’t accuse you of checking your email if you want to pull it out and follow along as we talk about this verse of scripture and those which surround it. 

This morning we are reading from Mark, chapter 9.  Most of this chapter has been given over to the story of Jesus’ transfiguration.  The transfiguration occurs on the top of a mountain.  Jesus takes a few of his disciples up there and as they are praying, Jesus’ appearance is changed.  He no longer reflects light, light projects from him.  We read that portion of Mark’s Gospel the last Sunday before Lent.  We always read the Transfiguration story the last week before Lent.  So, our appointed lessons for Sunday morning have skipped over most of Mark, chapter 9.  That means that last Sunday’s Gospel reading was from the eighth chapter of Mark.  Last Sunday, we read together the portion of Mark where Jesus asks his questions about “Who do you say that I am?” 

If you remember last week’s reading, you will recall that Peter finally provides the answer that Jesus was hoping for.  Peter answers by saying, “You are the Messiah.”   

In Mark there is very little in way of celebration that this information has been shared.  Jesus moves immediately from this acknowledgement to tell the disciples that “the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed.”  It isn’t all horrible news.  He also tells them the Son of Man will, “rise again.”  Verse thirty-two of the eighth chapter (isn’t that an interesting coincidence) tells us that “(Jesus) said all this quite openly.” 

So, our context is that for a second week in a row, the portion of the Gospel we will read together and consider, is all about Jesus laying out for his followers how the trip to Jerusalem will end.  He will be killed. 

What differs in this second telling is the inclusion of one piece of information left out of the earlier news bulletin.  This time Jesus tells them that all of this will occur after an act of betrayal.  It is that second sentence of the thirty-first verse where Jesus says, “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him.” 

The question, left unanswered, is who will betray him.  Unlike Mark 8 where the elders, or chief priests, or scribes who are readily identified as the obstructionist actors, the question of “Who?” is left unaddressed.  Betrayal is by definition something that can only happen by one who has been trusted.  Isn’t it?  The elders and chief priests and scribes were most often identified as the enemy.  We are not betrayed by the enemy; betrayal is at the hand of one whom we have come to trust. 

“They did not understand what he was saying.”  They could not even begin to imagine that among those whom Jesus had embraced with his care, compassion, and vision of unity that there would be someone capable of betrayal.  “Who could do this?”  And then, of course, they begin to consider whether they might be the one.  They did not understand – and they were afraid to ask him.  They were not sure they were prepared for the answer.  Here we have the type of question where the answer is so feared that the question remains unasked. 

The question of whether we are the one who betrays is but one of the threatening questions which often goes unasked.  Because the answer has such potential to change the way we see ourselves or to disrupt the cocoon we have built around our spiritual lives we develop the horrific tendency to shy away from the really, really tough questions. 

One of the indicators that we shy away from such questions is the type of questions we do ask, publicly.  Here I want to take you back to my opening attempts to speak of questions asked with the expectation that you can receive a simple, direct, irrefutable answer – as contrasted with questions which mostly tend to generate more questions. 

When you came through those doors this morning, where you looking for “The Answer”?  Did you think, or where you hoping, that somehow you would be told what to do or what to believe or how to think?   

Or did you come here anticipating that these sixty minutes (or seventy-five minutes) would encourage the rest of your week to be a time of discovery?  It is not an either<->or question; and the answer is likely to vary from one week to the next.   

And, truth be told, this is one of the reasons we prefer one preacher to another, or this congregation over that one, or align ourselves with a particular denomination and find ways to be critical of others.  Some of Jesus’ followers want to be told, clearly and precisely, “This is the answer.”  Others remain in a constant state of asking. 

Among all of Jesus’ followers, there remain fears that when Jesus speaks of betrayal he might not be talking about Judas or the elders, or the Pharisees but that he may be speaking about us.  Some followers would never want to entertain such a thought, so they remain “afraid to ask him.” 

Jesus tells us, quite openly, who he is, how he wants his followers to live their lives, what following him will mean.  The vision he sets forth is a glorious one.  There is nothing which can compare to the opportunity he gives us.  But all of this comes by way of passing through Jerusalem and through the cross.  How tempting it is to look for an alternative path.  And as we find what we think might be such a path, we tend not to ask too many questions – out of fear that the actual words of Jesus might contradict our decision. 

What types of questions are you asking?  Of God?  Of scripture?  Of the Church?  And more importantly – what are the questions you are afraid of asking? 

Do you still have your scraps of paper?  Where you wrote your first question?  Depending on how long Danielle decides to let us sit in silence, before moving on to the rest of the liturgy, maybe you will have opportunity to write down a few of your questions.  And maybe you could share them with me – or with the person sitting next to you.  Here is an idea:  talk about your questions as you are waiting for the line to make its way out the sanctuary doors.  Or share them over the lunch table.  Listen to the questions of your children – and be courageous enough to share with them your own. 

Notice that when the disciples became fearful of asking their questions, they started bickering among themselves.  That is what happens, right?  Look at verse thirty-three – Jesus asks them what they were arguing about.  When we shut ourselves off to the new discovery of what God is doing in our lives we tend to dispute with one another what conclusions are to be drawn from what Jesus has said to us in the past. 

What are your questions?  Please, lose the fear associated with asking them. 

Amen.

Devotion - Thursday, September 20

Many of you heard my confession last evening.  I am sorry for repeating it, but I have thought of little else since.

The program for last evenings LCM Dinner involved Political Science Professor Laura Olsen.  She came to help us think about the involvement of young adults in the upcoming election cycle.  One of the reasons she gave for encouraging young persons to vote is that it begins to establish a habit in your life.  If you vote once, you are more likely to vote twice.  If you vote twice......  She went on to say that establishing good habits is what we are continually doing, in campus ministry.  And she was right.

I confessed that my interest in having her come for our program is that I want to encourage the habit of integrating your political life with your life of faith.  

Over the past fifty years, the "religoius vote" has shifted from political party to political party.  Somewhere along the way, pundits realized that religious persons tend to be socially active and that they have firm convictions - which makes them likely voters.

You will sometimes hear assumptions that persons of faith will vote with a particular political party - which party they are assumed to vote with differs depending on the part of the country where they live.

I want to prod you to be involved politically.  Not because I assume you will vote for any particular candidate or with any specific party, but because I think persons of faith can do much to bring civility and respect back into the political process.  Being ever ready to acknowledge our own sinfulness, we are less likely to pounce upon others and find ways to tear them apart.  Persons of faith know what it means to be gracious, and patient, and understanding.

We live in a polarized world.  Way too many persons are trying to convince us that some are right and others are wrong.  The truth is found somewhere in the middle.  Christians ought to be able to lead the whole of society in understanding this.

Devotion - Wednesday, Sept 19

I continue to read from John 8.  Jesus is speaking of the things which have been revealed to him.  There are those in the crowd who take issue with what he has said.  They say of him that he is "a Samaritan and (has) a demon."

We all look for ways to dismiss those with whom we disagree.  If we cannot find a way to dispute their words, we begin to attack them.  The Jews gathered around Jesus do just this.

When Jesus makes statements about Abraham, they challenge him by saying "You are not fifty years old, and have you seen Abraham?"   They refuse to believe that one younger than themselves might have insights which they (older and more experienced) have not.

This is where revelation needs to be explored.  Revelation can occur (does occur) whenever or wherever God chooses.  The truth can be revealed to whomever, regardless of their status or stature.

In last night's Bible Study, I was appreciative of the insights raised by participants.  While the class often looks to me (and I fall into the trap) for background information - it is the comments of others which is more likely to show forth revelation.  Revelation is a gift from God.  It is solidified by study and reflection, but it comes to us rather than being earned or achieved.

There is a need to discuss what has been revealed to us, to make sure that it is solid and sound.  But as witnessed by Mark 8, revelation is more likely to come into the life of the one who is open to following God's will than to the one who has strategically positioned themselves in places of honor.  Do not allow those who covet your relationship with God to contribute to a tendency to dismiss what it is that God has revealed to you.

Devotion - Tuesday, September 18

John 8:45 is a very interesting verse.  Jesus says:  "But because I tell you the truth, you do not believe me."

"Because I tell you the truth, you do not believe me."

The implication here is that we might believe someone who tells us a lie.

The accusation is that we fail to believe the one who tells us the truth.

What are the lies, which upon being heard, find a root in our beliefs?  Perhaps that alcohol will make us more social; or being critical of others makes us look stronger; or hating those who are different from us is the way to security?

How often do we fail to believe the truth, even when it is repeated - that our worth is not measured by the things we have; that true love shows itself in service; that forgiveness is the way to be set free from hatred.

I was listening to a seminary professor last week who said that among God's people we are allowed to believe what the world would not allow us to believe.  I think of the truths which say to us that happiness comes by seeking ways to make others feel joy; or that being popular begins with being aware of those who live along the edges and even in the shadows.  I am aware of the pressure not to believe that God has accepted us and loves us - regardless of how much we might accept and love God.  God loves us so that we might change; God does change us so that we might be lovable.

Too often we believe the lies; we reject the truth.  Truth telling is very difficult.  Even recognizing the truth is a challenge.  What are the lies you will hear today?  Will you believe them?  How open will you remain to the truth?  The truth is such good news that it at times seems unbelievable. But believing it is the way to that joy and peace which can never be taken from us.

Devotion - Monday, September 17

The conference I attended last Mon-Wed was for church professionals from the SC Synod.  The speaker shared with us that institutions, even divinely inspired institutions, go through a predictable life pattern.

They start in a time of great exploration.  Everything is new; few things have been set in stone.  There is excitement and we are growing.

Then comes a time of codification.  During this time, we establish guiding principals, we set rules, we define how things are done.  This is time when we come into our own.  We have established ourselves and we are running like a well-oiled machine.

As time passes and the excitement and newness wears off, we shift to defending the things we had set forth in the previous period.  We start to say things, "It has always worked in the past..." and we expect that if we uphold those guiding principals it will work again in the future.  But sometimes it won't.

The speaker asked us to think about where the Church might be in such a life-cycle.

I am reading these days from the Book of Acts.  In the eleventh chapter there is another glimpse into the fluidity of the life of the early church.  Once again the issue is the admittance of those who are not Jews.  

Too often when we attempt to defend our guiding principals we speak of the decisions which were made in the Church of the sixteenth century or nineteenth century.  We fail to acknowledge that things were very unorganized and there was the thinnest veneer of agreement among those who were the first century followers of Jesus.  I am not immediately saying that none of those guiding principals are to be defended, rather that we need to defend them as an expression of God's on-going revelation to the Church.  Of course, in acknowledging them as an expression of God's on-going revelation, there needs to come the acknowledgement that God continues to reveal to us the way we are to go.  

Acts is a very comforting book.  From it we learn that even the most powerful forces in the world cannot silence the message of Jesus.  It is also a glimpse into how it was that the early Church worked out differences of thought as to how Jesus' followers were to live their lives.  From Acts we can take great comfort, as we enter what seems to be another era of exploration and discovery.

Devotion - Thursday, September 13

We often hear a desire to return to the "first century Church."  I can understand that, and appreciate the desire to be as close to Jesus as possible.  

But as is true for so many of our dreams, the central image which draws us is not complete.  

The first century Church was closer in time to Jesus, but it was not necessarily closer to unity.  That first century was a time of exploration and discovery; it was a time during which those who followed Jesus argued with each other and condemned the actions of one another.

This morning I was reading from Acts 8.  Here we have the vision of Peter, in which God shows him that he is not to consider the Gentiles "unclean."  This story represents a turning point in the development of the Church.  while Paul had already been working among the Gentiles, sharing with them the Good News of Jesus Christ, Peter had argued against this, claiming that if one was to be a follower of Jesus they must first become a Jew.

The first century Church was unsure whether the followers of Jesus would be a new religion, or a renewal movement within Judaism.  Such a question would never be asked today.  Because in the second century Church the followers of Jesus formulated separate documents for the establishment of a Church.  The fourth century Church wrote creeds and doctrines.

The eleventh century Church questioned the interpretation of those creeds and doctrines.  The sixteenth century Church split even further over the application of those statements of faith.  And in our day there is tremendous discussion as to whether this verse or that chapter is of the greatest importance.  None of the disagreements we are having are as significant or as extreme as those of the first century Church.  You could say we are arguing over the furniture, not the shape of the room.

I am all for examining the furniture.  For the Church to be the Church we must in every generation reconsider what has been passed on to us and determine for ourselves what is the way of Christ.  Let's eagerly engage in this discussion.  But let's do so with an honest look at our past and and a confidence that if God could lift from the turmoil and confusion of the first century Church the great cloud of witnesses which we call the saints, then surely God can be seen as active in our current discussions.

Devotion - Thursday, September 6

Mention was made during Tuesday's bible study of the book of Job.  Today, the Lectionary guided me to Job, from which I will be reading for the next four weeks.

Job is an interesting book.  It addresses the question of human suffering.  "Why do bad things happen to good people" was the title of book popular in the 1980's.  More recently, many have read a novel by the title of The Shack.  We have forever struggled to understand how anyone can suffer given that God is all powerful and all loving.  How does an all powerful and all loving God allow His chosen ones to suffer?

There are differing answers to the question.  Writers, exploring the topic while not advocating a single solution, have explored these various options.  Space here won't allow me to discuss them, but in a few lines I can point out that among God's faithful people there are differing ways of responding.

In Job (which I invite you to read with me over the next four weeks) the friends of Job offer these differing answers.  In the end, none satisfies Job or God.  Finally, the youngest of the observers will speak for God - saying "How are we mortals to understand such things." 

One of the reasons I dwell on this topic so much in my pastoral ministry is that I have seen the hurt inflicted on persons when they are offered only one possible answer.  When we say with confidence "God is punishing you for past sins!" or "This is God's way of making you stronger!" or "Stuff happens; just get used to it!" or "This all part of God's master plan!" -  and this does not match with the way in which God has been present in the life of the person, there is a disconnect and sometimes a falling away from God and God's presence.

Each of us must arrive at a solution to why there is evil in the world.  Among those of you reading these words, there are differing "preferred" answers.  Is there one "right" answer - I don't think so.  Too many God fearing, God loving, faithful disciples have chosen answers other than the one I prefer for me to ever think that I am right and they are wrong.  I hope you will arrive at your own answer, too.  But that you will offer your understand as one possible way, not the only way.

Devotion - Wednesday, September 5

I continue to read from Acts, of the work of the Apostles and early disciples.  In chapter 8, there is more about Simon, the former worker of magic.  This time the issue involves the transmission of the Holy Spirit.

This is one of those parts of scripture that challenges the way we "do church" in our part of the Kingdom of God.  In Acts 8, there is talk of persons "receiving the word of God", but not necessarily receiving the Holy Spirit.  Peter and John travel to Samaria, lay their hands on these persons, and the Spirit enters them.

In our part of the Kingdom, we still employ the laying on of hands.  What we don't necessarily look for are clear and direct indications that the Spirit has been transmitted by this act.

When you were baptized, the pastor laid hands upon you and offered prayers for your life in Christ.  At your confirmation, hands were once more placed on your head as the liturgy implored the Spirit to continue to be present in your life.  As the years pass, we look for signs that the Spirit is working in you, but at neither liturgy did we stand back and look to see.

The Spirit has been transmitted to you - of that I don't want you to ever doubt.  And I in no way wish to imply that our will is stronger than the work of the Spirit.  I would, however, acknowledge that we often find ways to silence the Spirit; that at times lack the confidence to act on the Spirit's prodding.  

How will the Spirit be active in your life today?  When the Spirit does attempt to work its will, how receptive will you be to its attempts?  

It is difficult for us to gain confidence in God's presence when we silence the Spirit, refusing to act on its encouragements.

Devotion - Tuesday, September 4

After the martyrdom of Stephen, the followers of Jesus are disbursed, scattered throughout the region of Judea and Samaria (Acts 8:1).  Philip goes down to a city of Samaria and begins to share the Good News of Jesus.

He encounters a man in the city by the name of Simon.  Simon had "previously practiced magic in the city and amazed the nation of Samaria, saying that he himself was somebody great."  After hearing the preaching of Philip, Simon is baptized and begins to follow the way of Jesus.

The distinction between the works done by the Apostles and that of someone who "practiced magic" needs to be made.  We need to be clear that the deeds done in the name of Jesus are not some trick or some expression of the greatness of the person performing the act.

I wonder if we prefer magic to acts wrought of God because magic would be so much easier and involve so much less of us.  If we could wave a magic wand and feed the hungry we would have no need for organizing the CROP Walk for world hunger.  If we could say the secret words all of God's children would have good, decent houses and we would not have to bruise our fingers as we drive nails in a Habitat for Humanity house.

Magic would be easier than the acts which reveal the trans-formative power of Christ, unleashed and active in the world.

Simon saw the difference.  He changed the way he spoke of himself and he gave up his addition to personal importance.  He found in Jesus the way he had been seeking.

Devotion - Labor Day

I realize that this secular holiday may go unnoticed by the Clemson University community.  It is not a holiday for us; classes go on as usual.  And, while I am usually a stickler for keeping to the Liturgical Calendar, over the secular calendar, Labor Day presents us with an opportunity to reflect on our vocation and how we live out that vocation in the world.

Our "vocation" is our calling.  Each of us, by virtue of our baptism, have the vocation of living in such a way as to make Christ present in the world.  Some religious communities will limit the use of the term vocation to those who serve the church in some sort of a full-time capacity.  In such communities it would be said of me that I have "a vocation."

But our community's insistence on the priesthood of all believers would not allow us to make such statements.  We understand that God calls persons to a variety of tasks, and not merely those which directly benefit the workings of the institutional church.  Thus, one lives out their vocation as a teacher, or business owner, or engineer, or clerk.  Luther said that the milk-maid was every bit as engaged with the work of the Kingdom of God as was the local priest.

Regardless of the occupation we have, we are called to live out our vocation.  As we choose an occupation (as we prepare for an occupation) we need to reflect on how that occupation will show forth our vocation.  Right now, your occupation is that of a student.  How do you live out vocation in this "job"?

I am sorry that you don't have Labor Day off, as an opportunity to reflect on these things and for us to gather and discuss them.  But I did not want the morning to pass without affirming for you that each one of you has been called to serve God.  You have been given a vocational calling.  It is now up to you to learn to live it.

Sermon - September 2, 2012

14^th Sunday after Pentecost – Year B      

James 2:1-17                                                                                                   

                                                                       Faith that Works 

I may have laid it on a bit heavy during Tuesday night’s bible study.  It was the first meeting of the new year; there were more folks present than we had study guides; many of those present were eager to get started (even as they admitted their Biblical knowledge was “weak”); and, we were studying the Book of Romans.   

I may have laid it on a bit heavy.  Especially since our theme text for the day was as close as you can get to the “Lutheran catch phrase.”  You know the verse. Romans 3:28:  “For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works proscribed by the law.” 

I was in “the zone,” and I may have even made reference to the places in the bible where the words of Paul most need to be heard.  I may have even referred to the Book of James.  And then here we are this morning, reading not from Romans but the Book of James.  For the next five Sundays we will be reading from James.  So we had just as soon make our peace with him this morning; and I need to remember what he says when I am tempted to re-enter “the zone” during our Tuesday evening bible studies. 

While Paul wishes to speak of faith apart from works, James’ insistence is that those who are hearers but not doers are like persons who see themselves in the mirror then quickly forget what it was that they saw.  Of such persons, James says, “their religion is useless.” 

The disagreement between Paul and James is legionary.  There was conflict between them from the outset.  Paul interrupts his missionary journeys in order to return to Jerusalem.  Paul’s followers are anxious about this, they worry that Paul will be imprisoned by the religious leaders in Jerusalem.  When he gets there, it is James and the Elders who receive him.  They listen to him talk about the work he had been doing among the Gentiles.  Paul is trying to convince them that these Gentiles are good and faithful followers of “The Way.”  (Remember that it wasn’t called the Christian Church until much later.)  James is inclined to agree, but he and the Elders are not yet convinced that these Gentiles can really be considered followers of The Way, unless they first go through the process proscribed for those who wish to convert to Judaism.  This process involves a number of “works;” things you must do in order to make the change.  These tasks, these “works” were what concerned Paul. 

There is in Christian Theology a technical phrase which we sometimes misapply.  It is “the plain sense of scripture.”  In our era, we make the mistake of believing that this phrase refers to the simple, plain meaning of the words (usually the words as they appear in an English translation.)  But “the plain sense of scripture” is a reference to the “sense” that the first readers would have made of these words, not the sense that you or I would glean.  These are not always different, but sometimes they may be.  And before we lay it on too heavy we need to ask ourselves whether our understanding matches the understanding of those original hearers. 

Paul never opposed “works” when “works” referred to doing helpful and loving deeds.  Paul instructs the newly form communities to take up collections and to send the money to Jerusalem in order to aid the orphans and widows.  Paul’s tirade against good works isn’t against faith that shows itself in actions, it is against works which have no purpose other than allowing one to say, “I have jumped through this hoop.”  Paul’s opposition to “works” has a lot more to do with whether new converts had to be circumcised than it did with whether followers of Jesus ought to feed the hungry and clothe the naked.  

Let us hope that Jesus’ followers will forever oppose the kinds of works which are done merely so that the doer can boast of having jumped through a hoop.  We know there is something phony about good deeds done in order to feather our own cap, or advance our own status in the world.  Those are the “works” which are done in order to impress – impress a neighbor or impress God – and no such works will ever be considered appropriate. 

It may be the case that James and Paul were arguing about something quite different than we argue about when we merely adopt their language without reforming the meaning for our own day.

I want to suggest the same for the writings of Martin Luther, and his critique of the Book of James.  In his writings, Luther refers to James as an “Epistle of Straw.”  Sometimes, in our dedication the reforms Luther brought to the Church, we have used his words as an opportunity to eliminate one book of the Bible which we need to study and understand.  Here again, we need to remember the context.   

Luther had entered the monastery in an attempt to appease God.  His life-altering decision was based on a mistaken notion that somehow God would love him “more” if he were to don the cloak of a monk and give himself over to prayer and fasting.  Luther was known for his acts of self-denial.  He would fast; he would sleep outside in the cold without a blanket.  He performed these works, in order that he might prove himself to be a devoted servant of God. 

The Church of Luther’s day, had a pretty tight hold on the means of grace.  You couldn’t get absolution unless you underwent the Church’s process of confession.  You were not allowed to receive communion until the Priest had verified your faith.  These hoops, these tasks, these ways in which the Church inserted itself as a dispenser of God’s means of grace, these were the things which bothered Luther the most.  Rather than being on the side of the person in the pew, the Church (in his opinion) found ways to make the path to Christ more difficult. 

The “works,” required by the Church in order to be in good standing with the Church, were what Luther opposed.  He was not against the care of others, or the acts of compassion extended to those in need.  This is the man, who when given ownership of the old monastery, opened the home to all who were in need of shelter or food. 

There is no conflict between the works done out of care and compassion for others and the faith which saves us.  James has it right – how would it be possible for us to claim that we have been overcome with God’s goodness and then refuse to extend that graciousness to others?  How can we claim to love God and refuse to offer forgiveness to the neighbor?  How can we give thanks to God as the provider of all things and then refuse to share those things with others?  How can we have faith, and not have good works? 

I sometimes think we hold on to a mistaken notion of Paul or Luther’s criticism of James so it will be easier for us to do exactly what James tells us we cannot do.  I am referring to his mocking of a believer who tells a hungry or homeless person, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs.  Adopting a “no works” policy assuages our guilt in knowing that we do horde, or waste, or simply refuse to share.  

On Tuesday evening we return to our study of the Book of Romans.  I will teach the class with a tremendous amount of enthusiasm; and I am sure that I will sometimes lay it on a bit heavy.  Hopefully, our weekly return to the pages of James will remind all of us that while works done for their own sake do nothing other than provide bragging rights; those who have been overcome with God’s grace cannot help but do the good deeds of our Messiah. 

The devotion to God which is pure and undefiled insists that we care for orphans and widows and all those who are in distress.  We do keep ourselves unstained by the world and unwavering in our allegiance to the Christ by whose name we are known.

 

Amen