Devotion - Tuesday, March 12

The second half of Romans 7 contains verses which often confuse us.  They are a twisted mess; the perfect reflection of the twisted nature of our thoughts, our actions, and our intentions.

Paul writes:  "For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate."

Within the collection of Christian doctrines, there is one on "Original Sin."  Some mistake this doctrine to be a reference to the original act of sin, committed by Eve and Adam.  But it is even more original than that.  Original Sin is a reference to the impetus to sin which lies within each of us.  It is woven into our nature.  It is something we can never fully avoid.

We act in a particular way, hoping for a certain outcome.  But as we act we fail to see the dark side of our actions; we are incapable of understanding the full impact of what we do.  There are unintended - but very real - negative consequences to our actions.

So long as we are human (and not God), there will be mixed results to any of our actions.  This is what Original Sin refers to.

Paul continues:  "I can will what is right, but I cannot do it.  For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do."

We could, and perhaps ought, to despair over this state of affairs.  Paul seems close to doing so.  Until he finds the response.  "Who will deliver me from this body of death?  Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!"

When someone comes to me, expressing their dissatisfaction with my actions or pointing out the negative consequences of my behaviors, I stand ready to acknowledge my failings.  Having a firm grasp on the Doctrine of Original Sin, I can admit that I do not accomplish the good that I had intended or that my actions may have caused the exact option of what I was intending.  The heated attack looses its fire when I acknowledge this and when I warn them that there are likely to be other disappointing acts in our future together. 

Original Sin is not an excuse to fall short - but it is a good reminder that intentions and consequences don't always match up - and are likely not to do so in this life.

Devotion - Monday, March 11

I continue my reading of Romans.  This morning I read the opening 12 verses of Chapter 7.

Paul continues to speak of the Law, and its inability to accomplish what faith is able to do.  The law can only restrain us; never lead us to learn to love.

God desires us to join him, to be one with him, to pledge ourselves to God and God's hopes for the world.  This is not the kind of relationship which develops when we are confined or constrained to act.

While we may not understand the transgression, or list it among those most troubling for us, Paul places coveting at the center of much of our rebellion against God.  We want what we cannot have, so we covet.  We covet for ourselves that which is God's.  This begins when we covet the right or the opportunity to determine our own fate.  We rebel against God and seek to be the masters of our fate.

The law, when made the prime source in our lives, leads us to covet the right to set the rules.  The very purpose of the law is thus lost - we are not more likely to follow God, but to reject God's role.

Think of your relationship with your parents.  As a young child you never questioned their rules or authority.  You simply went along.  Then came that time in your life when you were not so inclined to agree.  There began a season of rebellion and disagreements.  At some point (usually during your college years, but perhaps a few year after) when you and your parents will come to a new understanding.  You will find yourself understanding why they asked of you what they have; they will come to honor your ability to make significant life decisions.  You transition from obedience to unity; you shift from complying with their wishes to a blending of viewpoints. 

This is the relationship Paul encourages us to have with God.  We are not to fear and obey God because God is threatening and overbearing.  We fear and obey God out of respect for His wisdom and His vision for our lives.

Sermon - 4th Sunday in Lent

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

                                                    It’s tough to be an Elder Brother

Today's parable is known by a number of differing names.  Most often it is called the parable of the Prodigal Son; in calling it that, we place the emphasis upon the younger child who squanders away the father's wealth and then steals his way home, hoping to be reunited with the family. 

Sometimes, however, this parable is referred to as the parable of the Forgiving Father; it is, after all, the forgiveness which the father offers that makes this story noteworthy.

I am still waiting for someone to refer to this parable in a way which focuses on the Elder Brother.  As of yet, I haven't heard any such title.  So I am still waiting, hoping that such a title will emerge, and thus some acknowledgment Jesus tells this parable in order to make a point for the elder brothers (and sisters) in the world.

Look back at the text.  This morning we read the first three verses of Luke 15.  They set the stage.  Jesus isn’t coming up with pithy little stories; he is telling a parable to the Pharisees and scribes.  You will note that verses 4 through 10 are skipped.  Had we read those, you would have seen the pattern.  Jesus tells not one but three parables, each coalescing around a theme.  (Parable of the lost sheep; parable of the lost coin)  That theme is the joy which comes when that which is lost is found.  “Joy” that is for the one who claims title for the lost; but the Pharisees and scribes seem not to share this joy.  They are more concerned with preserving a sense of what is just and right and proper.

It does matter – from which perspective we view the story.  With whom are we able to identify?  How do we see ourselves in this story?  It matters who we consider the prime character; as a result we will draw differing conclusions from the parable.

Let’s look first at that most popular perspective.  The prodigal son ignores social custom and asks his father for his share of the estate.  After he gets it, he goes off to a far country and spends the money.  It is important to note that it isn’t his squandering alone which results in his troubles.  There is a famine which comes upon the land.  The young man ends up working as a laborer, and begins to contemplate eating the scraps he was supposed to feed the pigs.

The young man comes to himself and decides to head home.  He turns his life around and chooses now (having made a series of bad choices earlier) to do the right thing.

The decision to read this passage in the season of Lent nudges if not forces us to see the parable as an invitation to see some part of the prodigal in ourselves.  What do we have here if not an acknowledgement of transgression?  Viewing this parable from the perspective of the prodigal calls upon us to examine our actions and our motives and wonder how a new and different direction might turn out.

There may be a few prodigal children among us.  There may be a few of you who have gone through a period of renouncing and rejecting all the things which you now gather in this place to affirm.  Maybe.  But most likely his story isn’t our story.  Most likely, our lives follow the pattern of the elder brother, the one that never left home in the first place.

Both sons have reason to be grateful for a forgiving father.  Whether our transgressions are great (as in the case of the younger son), or relatively minor (as in the case of the elder) – we can see the advantages of a father who overlooks our failings and loves us without condition.

In telling the story, Jesus reminds us that this is God’s prime trait.  Go home and do a search of the phrase, “For God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.”  The forgiving father, in this parable, sees his sons and loves them.  Forgiveness is easy for him.  It is his nature.

Jesus tells us that this is the attitude God has toward us and this is the motivation which allows God to welcome back the wayward child.  And we can all be grateful for this – without it, how would we ever hope to have the courage to stand before God?

But God’s nature isn’t the reason Jesus tells the parable.  He shares this story in order to make a point.  And the audience for his point is the Pharisees and scribes who were grumbling about Jesus’ forgiving attitude toward “sinners.”  Jesus tells this parable in order to say something to the elder brothers.  He wants those who have been minding the store and staying at their posts to begin to look differently at those who have stepped outside the ring and maybe even ceased to be concerned with the wishes and desires of the Father.

That is why I would like to hear this story told with a keen eye to the elder brother.  He is the one who must learn to see and then emulate the father’s forgiveness.  He is the one who needs to experience the change of heart.  Until that happens, there will be no true celebration for the son who has returned.

I said it earlier; I will say it again.  We are, for the most part, the elder brother.  While there may be a few prodigals among us, most of us are among the children who may have fussed and bickered a bit, but remained pretty close to the heart and home.  We are the one who has tended the family farm, and probably even fed the calf so it would be fatten up at just the right time. And we are so easily overlooked.

This parable is difficult for us.  And we tend to want to see it as a story about someone else.  But it is really a story about us – and about our ability to do the day in and day out tasks associated with having things ready for our wayward brothers to return, and our gracious father to forgive.

Amen.

 

Devotion - Thursday, March 7

I am going to step away from my comments on Romans today in order to address the concluding verse of our Gospel lesson. 

John 8:32 reads - "You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free."  And indeed it does.

Pope John XXIII restated this verse with a twist.  His quote is cut into the paper relief in my office - a gift from my wife (she majored in art at UGA.)  Just this week, the relief and quote was noticed by a student for the first time.  I really ought to hang it in a more prominent location.

The quote reads:  "The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable."  And indeed it does.

The truth is that we don't have to live lives of insecurity - but we shy away from the depth of Christ's love for us.

The truth is that we only hurt ourselves when we gossip - but we continue to run others down thinking this will somehow build us up.

The truth is that amassing more and more stuff (money) seems like a good idea - but none of that stuff will unite us with others in the way that a few hours of service can.

The truth is that we have freedom - total and complete freedom - set before us but we choose to remain captive to the illusions of the culture around us.

I am the one who sees the paper relief and reads the quote when someone trusts me enough to invite me into their lives by sitting in the office and opening their heart.  As they share their struggle, I try to help them see the truth which lies so close at hand, but too often evades their grasp.  I know the truth, God has revealed to it to me, but I am miserable as I seek to help the truth take root in the hearts, minds, and lives of God's children.

The truth makes us free.  In that freedom we see how the world can be, and is.  But too often darkness is chosen and truth is allowed to slip into the shadows.  What a miserable state of affairs!  And so totally unnecessary.

Devotion - Wednesday, March 6

Romans 5:1-11 contains several verses worthy of memorization.  Paul has addressed the question of whether the law can save us ("No") and has given his insights to the way in which Abraham was justified ("By faith").  These eleven verses could be read as a summary of the above, as a re-affirmation of the essential role that faith plays in our salvation.

The first of these reads:  "Therefore, since we have been justified by fatih, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."

If our justification is by any means other than faith, if it obtained by us through effort, if it has to be wrestled from the grip of a judgmental or angry God - then, there is no peace between us and God.  If justification is what we want, but what God holds back, how can there be peace between us?

Later in this section we read, "Suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us." 

The questions of human suffering will forever haunt us, and we will wonder why such things are in our world.  We can never obtain a place where they are gone, but we can come to terms with them and not allow them to erode our confidence of God's love.

One more:  "While we were yet sinners Christ died for us."

God's act comes before, not after.  God makes the sacrifice, then turns to us for a response.  If Christ would die for us when we are still alienated from him, how much more would he do now that we have been made one?

I wish this section of scripture were stretched over several days of reading and prayer.  I hope these few nuggets will give you something to reflect on this day, and encourage you in your own reflection time to marvel at the desire of God to unite us with himself.

Devotion - Tuesday, March 5

I often speak to couples about the difference between a covenant and a contract.  When considering marriage, this is an important distinction.

In a contract we state what is required of the other.  The legal document, signed at a marriage, is a contract.  If we fail to meet the terms of the contract, the other can bring a suit against us.

In a covenant we state what it is that we are eager to give to the other.  In a covenant we build upon trust, not upon law.

In Romans 4 Paul speaks of the promise which God has given us.  He reminds us of the covenant established between God and Abraham. 

Contracts have the force of law - and we can hold that force over the head of the other named in the contract.  Covenants have the word of the other - they are as solid as the faithfulness of the one who makes the promise.

The covenant into which Abraham enters has many facets.  At its core is the simple "I will be your God and you shall be my people."  God selects Abraham and his descendants as his own.

Through the centuries which follow, the people will break the laws set up to direct God's people to the covenant; but the covenant is not removed.  It is built upon the faithfulness of the One who established the covenant.

Covenants are stronger than contracts.  Covenants involve our whole selves.

Our covenant with God, the often referred to "New Covenant," flows from the death and resurrection of Jesus.  That covenant is stronger than anything we can imagine.  It will remain, regardless of our adherence to the law.  And it will take on its fullness, as we give our whole selves to the One who claims us in that covenant.

Devotion - Monday, March 4

This morning's readings present us with a conundrum.  Actually, it is the struggle which so often confuses us and divides us.

From the Book of Jeremiah we read of God's insistence that His people reflect their status in the way they live their lives (Jer 7:1-15).  In Romans 4:1-12 we get a powerful renunciation of justification by works - works of ANY kind.

So often we read the seemingly different sets of instructions and decide which one is "correct," or "more helpful."  We seldom find it possible to hold the two in creative tension.

It is the death and resurrection of Jesus which signals our salvation.  We are saved based on nothing other than his leaving behind the heavens, taking on our form, and forever changing our understanding of what it means to be created (and re-created) in the image of God.

But surely there are to be outward signs of this salvation.  Surely we would live differently.

Jeremiah was sent by God to a people who has ceased to live as God would have them live.  He went to them to say, "You are God's people - act like it."  It is message worth re-hearing in every age and in every situation.

Never forsake the assurance that your salvation has come as a result of Christ's actions.  But look for ways to show this change in how you live and act.  Jeremiah's words may prove helpful:

For if you truly amend your ways and your doings, if you truly act justly one with another, if you do not oppress the alien, the orphan, and the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not go after other gods to your own hurt, then I will dwell with you in this place, in the land that I gave of old to your ancestors for ever and ever.   Jer 7:5-7