Sorry for the delay in getting this week's sermon online.
Texts:
Galatians and Luke
You’ll reap what you sow! How many of us have heard this phrase uttered at us in our lifetimes? Perhaps some of us have hurled this adage at others we generally dislike. Perhaps we have watched someone’s life fall apart who never seemed to work at “life” in the first place and we have muttered to ourselves or turned to a trusted friend and shrugged, “Well, you reap what you sow.”
It is often said with disdain when we see someone who is corrupt or mean getting their just desserts. Well, you reap what you sow! Always said in this tone of providential perspective.
Yes, we usually utter the ancient wisdom, “you reap what you sow,” in hindsight. And you know another adage about hindsight as well—it is 20/20! Paul, however, uses the phrase to diagnose a present dilemma. He saw people putting their trust in circumcision. They were sowing in the flesh. They were planting their spiritual hopes in a system of religion and cultural distinction. And Paul warned them—“IF you sow to your own flesh, you will reap corruption in the flesh.”
As I mentioned last week, if we hear the word “flesh” and think about sexual sins, we are missing the larger point of what Paul is describing by “Flesh.” Flesh is the name he gives to all those practices of human nature which are contrary to the God of Love, unity, embrace, and reconciliation. Flesh, especially in the community of believers is more usually manifested as enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, 21envy. If we examine our own lives and we can’t account for any “sorcery, fornication, and drunkenness” and therefore think we are not in the grip of the Flesh, we need to take a harder look at chapter 15!
To further expand on what Paul means by “sowing in our own flesh,” we must also remember that Paul is confronting the specific practice of circumcision and what it represented in the community to whom he was writing. Paul was confronting that notion that you could put your ultimate faith in a cultural practice that demarcated Jews from non-Jews. The cultural practice of circumcision was literally a work of the Flesh that Paul saw creating much strife and jealousy and quarrels and dissensions among this community.
To translate into our time, Sowing in our own flesh would perhaps be putting our ultimate trust in our religious practices and cultural constructs instead of on the movement of the Spirit among us. It could be akin to saying—“You’ve got to practice religion THIS WAY in order to be saved.” “You’ve got undergo this and that religious ritual in order to be saved.” “You’ve got to be a member of this Religion in order to be saved.”
On the other hand, Paul says, we can “sow in the Spirit, and we will reap eternal life.” This “sowing” puts our spiritual lives in the hands of the Maker instead of our own. It is an understanding that perhaps God is bigger than we think. Perhaps God works in mysterious ways and not just ways that our tradition or our culture and even our religion has put its rubber stamp on. Sowing in the Spirit might literally be interpreted as throwing seeds in the air. Jesus tells a parable about the master Gardener (That’s gardener with a big G!) spreading seeds in just this fashion. Some seed lands on the rock, some lands on the fertile ground, some lands in the pathway, some lands among the thorns.
Sowing in the Spirit is letting go of our conditions, because God loves us unconditionally. It is letting go of our “rule based” pseudo spirituality, because Jesus loved those who it was “against the rules” to love. It is letting go of our “God-mocking” quest for power and control. Reaping eternal life isn’t just about going to heaven when we die, it is about living life eternally right now!
Eternal life doesn’t begin later. Reaping eternal life means that we are followers of a man who showed us how to live in such a fashion that we are never going to stop living. Jesus sent his followers out to spread the news—“The Kingdom of God has come near.” It is so near that we can grab on to it and get caught up in its movement. If it has come near, that must mean it is going somewhere and has passed by here on its way there.
Do we know how to reach up and grab on? Do we have the courage to do so? I’m not saying that “sowing in the Spirit” is some willy-nilly free for all. Look how Jesus sends his disciples out into the villages to gather the harvest. First of all, he puts things in perspective for us. “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.” We know we have lots of work to do. We know we cannot afford to become soft and lazy.
Jesus probably felt like many of you who have fields that must be reaped after a month full of rain. I know that as I reflected on this scripture this week, I was thinking about my back yard, which looked like a jungle! The harvest is plentiful, indeed! The workers were few and up to their necks in work! The disciples had a tough row to hoe as well.
Jesus gives his disciples specific instructions: “go out two by two, take no shoes or purse or cloak. Speak to no one on the roads. Stay in one house and eat what they give you.” Jesus has plenty of instructions. But Jesus wants us to know that Kingdom life, that Sowing in the Spirit, that Reaping Eternal Life isn’t a cakewalk. “I send you out as lambs in the midst of wolves.” Why?
Because he is taking away their safety net so they don’t rely on the Flesh and instead they rely on the Spirit. He strips them down so they can know God as a provider. Don’t you ever think about how we coddle ourselves to the extent that we might too oversaturated to observe or absorb any miracles? Perhaps you feel this as you are watching your third hour of television of the night and then notice that your son or daughter has stayed home tonight and you could have been spending that time with them. Perhaps we feel this over-saturation when we take a walk down the street and notice all sorts of things that we miss when we are zooming by in our air-conditioned, noise insulating automobiles. Maybe there are miracles all around us, and we miss them because we are too busy providing for ourselves, too busy sowing in the Flesh. Perhaps this is why Jesus instructed his disciples to bring no sandals, no money, and no bag of belongings.
He gives them only the message: “The Kingdom of God has come near.” Paul gives similar encouragement to the Galatians, saying, “We shall reap eternal life, if we do not give up.” “The Kingdom of God has come near.” “Don’t give up.” Do we bring this message into our community? Do we give our neighbors and our families and our friends and our enemies reason to believe that God is doing something new and bold and beautiful? Do we live in a way that this proclamation, “The Kingdom of God has come near,” has any merit or authenticity or validation by the love we show? Paul followed his sowing and reaping comments by saying, “Let us work for the good of all, and especially for the family of faith.”
In the next paragraph, he says “For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything; but a new creation is everything!” Paul Tillich, an influential theologian of the 20th century, said that this is the crux of the whole Christian faith. This is the message of Christianity for the modern world. We bear the proclamation of a new creation. Paul says it elsewhere in 2nd Corinthians, "If anyone is in union with Christ he is a new being; the old state of things has passed away; there is a new state of things."
As new creations, we are more open to the miracles in our presence. Like newborn babies having natural trust in their parents, we can have complete and total trust in our God. We have new eyes to look at the world—we see enemies as brothers and sisters, we see hope in desperate situations.
Perhaps this is what Christ is commissioning us to go out and tell the world—it’s not about the way we do things, its not about the words we use, it’s not about the cultural trappings for which we reserve the most nostalgic corner of our hearts—our faith is about the New Creation that we have become by the power of the New Covenant.
We all live in the old state of things, and the question asked of us by our text is whether we also participate in the new state of things. We belong to the Old Creation, and the demand made upon us by Christianity is that we also participate in the New Creation. We have known ourselves in our old being, and we shall ask whether we also have experienced something of a New Being in ourselves. Can we choose to hold on to that newborn child’s trust in our Savior?
Have we experienced the nearness of the Kingdom? Have we shared that nearness in some way with our neighbor? Have we allowed the reality of the New Creation to become fully apparent in our lives? Have we abandoned sowing in the Flesh? Have we put our trust in God’s provision and daily miracles?
I think John Wesley’s famous covenant prayer gives us that hope and that focus, let us bow and pray,
I am no longer my own, but yours.
Put met to what you will, rank me with whom you will;
put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed by you or laid aside by you,
enabled for you or brought low by you.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and heartily yield all things
to your pleasure and disposal.
And now, O glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
you are mine, and I am yours. So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
let it be ratified in heaven.
Amen.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Rest in Peace Esther.
Esther J. Moore, age 84, of Morris, Oklahoma, passed away on July 2, 2007 in Tulsa’s St. Francis Hospital where she had been battling an unexpected illness since Memorial Day weekend.
Esther was born in Morris on April 3, 1923, to parents John and Leona Foster. She graduated from Morris high School in 1940, and lived in Morris during most of her life.
Esther became interested in piano very early and at the age of 8, she became the pianist and organist for the Morris Christian Church where she also served for many years as a Sunday School teacher. In the 1960’s, she became a faithful choir member of the Morris United Methodist Church, where she also played the piano throughout her life and served as the church's membership secretary for 35 years.
During World War II, Esther worked for Douglas Aircraft in Tulsa where she worked her way from a riveter to an aircraft inspector.
Esther married Richard L. (Dick) Moore in 1946, and devoted her life to making a home for her three daughters and her husband of 53 years. As an accomplished seamstress, she spent countless hours sewing garments ranging from everyday school clothing to elegant formals, coats, and crafts. When there was a creative project to be done, whether it was baking a perfect dish or desert for a school or community project, Esther was one of the best to get the job done.
In the 1960’s, Esther enjoyed being an active member of the Order of the Eastern Star in Morris and she was a long time member of the Dahlia Flower Club. She also worked as the Morris City Librarian during the 1970’s. She was also a very active member of the Morris Senior Citizen’s Center. One of Esther’s most popular activities was extravagantly decorating her home for Halloween and making more than 500 popcorn balls each year to be handed out for trick-or-treat, for more than 35 years.
Esther has been preceded in death by her parents, her husband, Dick Moore, and infant daughter, Peggy Lee Moore. She is survived by three daughters, Phyllis Hudecki and husband Norman of Okmulgee, Beverly Alexander of Perry, and Jody Simpson and her husband Don of Bartlesville; grandchildren are Stacey Herriage, Katie Faulkner, Mindy Faulkner, and Richie Alexander; one brother, Bob Foster of Tulsa, a sister-in-law, Virginia Zimmerman of Tulsa, nieces, nephews, and many wonderful friends.
Services for Esther will be held at the Morris United Methodist Church at 2:00 P.M. Friday, July 6. In tribute to Esther’s love of animals, the family requests memorials be sent to the Washington County SPCA in Bartlesville or the Okmulgee County Animal Shelter. Friends may visit the McClendon-Winters Funeral Home of Morris from 12-8 P.M. on Thursday. Online condolences may be sent at www.mcclendon-winters.com, or you may leave a comment here for the family to see.
Esther was born in Morris on April 3, 1923, to parents John and Leona Foster. She graduated from Morris high School in 1940, and lived in Morris during most of her life.
Esther became interested in piano very early and at the age of 8, she became the pianist and organist for the Morris Christian Church where she also served for many years as a Sunday School teacher. In the 1960’s, she became a faithful choir member of the Morris United Methodist Church, where she also played the piano throughout her life and served as the church's membership secretary for 35 years.
During World War II, Esther worked for Douglas Aircraft in Tulsa where she worked her way from a riveter to an aircraft inspector.
Esther married Richard L. (Dick) Moore in 1946, and devoted her life to making a home for her three daughters and her husband of 53 years. As an accomplished seamstress, she spent countless hours sewing garments ranging from everyday school clothing to elegant formals, coats, and crafts. When there was a creative project to be done, whether it was baking a perfect dish or desert for a school or community project, Esther was one of the best to get the job done.
In the 1960’s, Esther enjoyed being an active member of the Order of the Eastern Star in Morris and she was a long time member of the Dahlia Flower Club. She also worked as the Morris City Librarian during the 1970’s. She was also a very active member of the Morris Senior Citizen’s Center. One of Esther’s most popular activities was extravagantly decorating her home for Halloween and making more than 500 popcorn balls each year to be handed out for trick-or-treat, for more than 35 years.
Esther has been preceded in death by her parents, her husband, Dick Moore, and infant daughter, Peggy Lee Moore. She is survived by three daughters, Phyllis Hudecki and husband Norman of Okmulgee, Beverly Alexander of Perry, and Jody Simpson and her husband Don of Bartlesville; grandchildren are Stacey Herriage, Katie Faulkner, Mindy Faulkner, and Richie Alexander; one brother, Bob Foster of Tulsa, a sister-in-law, Virginia Zimmerman of Tulsa, nieces, nephews, and many wonderful friends.
Services for Esther will be held at the Morris United Methodist Church at 2:00 P.M. Friday, July 6. In tribute to Esther’s love of animals, the family requests memorials be sent to the Washington County SPCA in Bartlesville or the Okmulgee County Animal Shelter. Friends may visit the McClendon-Winters Funeral Home of Morris from 12-8 P.M. on Thursday. Online condolences may be sent at www.mcclendon-winters.com, or you may leave a comment here for the family to see.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Lift Off! With VBS next week.
Beginning Sunday, July 8-12, our church will offer a Vacation Bible School Experience that is sure to "lift your spirits!" Lift Off will focus on following, trusting, listening, repenting and serving God through stories in Genesis and the Gospels. Each of these themes are woven into the imagery of hot air ballooning. If you are between the ages of 3 and adult, there is something at the VBS for you! (There's an adult component too, or you are welcome to help with the kids.) Each night (excluding Sunday) we meet for dinner at 5:30, and go until 8pm. We begin on Sunday night at 6pm. Childcare is provided for workers and for participants in the adult bible study. See you there!
Freedom, Flesh, and Fruit. July 1 Sermon
Leviticus 19: 17-18
Galatians 5: 1, 13-25
This week we celebrate the 231st anniversary of our declaration of freedom from British rule. We celebrate our independence as a nation and as a people. We think of our freedom in many ways—we have freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, freedom to vote, freedom for the ultimate aim of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” We probably do not associate freedom with slavery. Indeed, they are thought of as polar opposites. Yet in today’s reading from Galatians Paul breathes in freedom in one sentence, and then breathes out slavery with a smile.
We have spent the past couple weeks reflecting on Paul’s letter to the Galatians. In this letter, arguably the first letter of Paul’s and thus the oldest book in the New Testament, Paul confronts opponents in the mission field to the Gentiles who want to subscribe Gentile converts to Judaism before becoming Christians. Paul rejects this effort because he sees it undermining the power of the witness, death, and resurrection of Christ. In today’s lesson, he concludes previous chapters of argument with the dramatic words, “For freedom Christ has set you free! Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.”
Paul equates submission to the law code and the cultural practices of Judaism with slavery to a system that has been abolished by the power of Christ. He insists that the Greek Galatians are claimed and adopted by God simply and perfectly by the sacrificial faith of Jesus Christ.
Paul focuses on the freedom of Christians throughout the book of Galatians, and in this passage speaks specifically about freedom as a pathway, one that we “walk” and “keep in step with” the Spirit, or one which we diverge from if we find ourselves living in self centered or divisive ways.
It is as if the freedom road on which he guides the recipients of this letter has some very dangerous offshoots, and Paul is assuring us that while the rival missionaries believe that the Law is the only map for humans to stay on course, Paul believes that the Holy Spirit is the uniquely adequate and essential guide along the path of freedom.
Paul’s antidote to slavery is freedom found in Christ. And Paul’s antidote to excessive behavior that he fears would result from this freedom is slavery to one another. It is as if Thomas Jefferson wrote in the Declaration of Independence, “and if any of these freedoms that we find self evident in humanity should infringe on the good of all, then we declare that we have strayed from the hallowed path of freedom and should seek the binds that draw us again to one another as a society.”
Rev. Timothy Downs writes in a sermon called “Jesus Means Freedom, “Now, in Galatia, Paul makes it clear-by God's grace we are free, but it's an interesting kind of freedom, a freedom that is not just, "Okay I can do anything I please." It is a freedom that leads to more questions. Here is another easy answer to what it means to be saved. St. Augustine once said, "Love God and do as you please." Is that easy or is it complex? Our freedom in faith is framed by a covenant, by a love of God. Freedom is not license.”
He continues, “It is freedom to act within the context of a relationship with God, a relationship of love. Paul reminds the people of Galatia that we are called to respond to a loving and graceful God by loving our neighbor as ourselves. That means that we are to show esteem for our neighbors and ourselves.
We are to desire to help our neighbor. We are free not simply to be at liberty, but we are free to be more freely loving; and if we are more freely loving, we will be a people who seek a more just and supportive society in which people, to use Paul's words, "no longer bite and devour one another."
The message of v. 13, then, is, “Do not allow freedom to become a base of operations for the hostile power of the Flesh.” How? By becoming “slaves to one another.” If the way to keep Flesh from gaining a base of operations is through loving, mutual service, this suggests that the power of Flesh will try to manifest itself through pride, rivalry, and autonomy.
The Spirit, on the other hand, manifests itself in community in what Paul refers to as fruit. Fruit cannot be humanly manufactured; it can grow only organically, as God gives the growth—in this case, through the life-giving energy of the Spirit
"The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self control." These are not laws for behavior, but these are the characteristics of those who in their freedom are open and responsive to the creative spirit of God. There is no law but freedom. But that freedom is framed by a context, by a covenant of mutuality and of love.
When we find our community of faith bearing these fruit, we can be assured that we are living lives in accord with the Spirit. If we instead find other things coming out of our community, we have perhaps become a fortress of the Flesh.
God strengthens us in the fruit of the Spirit through this meal that we come together to celebrate this morning. Through the fruit of the vine and the wheat of the fields, God imparts the Holy Spirit unto our existence. We pray that the Spirit brings us unity to be “one with Christ, one with each other, and one in ministry to all the world.”
John Wesley mentions in his notes on these verses that “Works are mentioned in the plural because they are distinct from, and often inconsistent with, each other.”
I would add to Wesley’s observation that the Works of the flesh are not only sometimes inconsistent with each other, but they also tear us apart from one another. We shouldn’t hear the word “flesh” and think that Paul is referring solely to sexual sins. His concentration is instead more on the particular works of the flesh that cause division in the community: enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy. Wesley pictures for us these works of the Flesh nailed upon the cross in reference to Paul’s words in v. 24 “Nailed it, as it were, to a cross whence it has no power to break loose, but is continually weaker and weaker.” All of these poisons inhibit us from the greatest law, which both Paul and Jesus locate for us in Leviticus: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.”
In this, the “higher law,” the “temple” of our faith, we are drawn closer together, we are bound as one. Wesley also notes that "the fruit of the Spirit" is mentioned in the singular, ver. 22, as being all consistent and connected together.” Likewise, these gifts and virtues are not only interconnected and flow out of one another, but they usher in unity and harmony among those whom they come to fruition.
So, may we walk by the Spirit. May we be guided along the path of love and righteousness. May our lives bear fruit for the kingdom of God. May we offer tangible and nourishing expression of the Spirit’s activity in our lives by our prayers, our presence, our gifts, and our service. And by the Holy Spirit’s power through this meal we are about to share, may we be one with Christ, one with each other, and one in ministry to all the world.
Galatians 5: 1, 13-25
This week we celebrate the 231st anniversary of our declaration of freedom from British rule. We celebrate our independence as a nation and as a people. We think of our freedom in many ways—we have freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, freedom to vote, freedom for the ultimate aim of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” We probably do not associate freedom with slavery. Indeed, they are thought of as polar opposites. Yet in today’s reading from Galatians Paul breathes in freedom in one sentence, and then breathes out slavery with a smile.
We have spent the past couple weeks reflecting on Paul’s letter to the Galatians. In this letter, arguably the first letter of Paul’s and thus the oldest book in the New Testament, Paul confronts opponents in the mission field to the Gentiles who want to subscribe Gentile converts to Judaism before becoming Christians. Paul rejects this effort because he sees it undermining the power of the witness, death, and resurrection of Christ. In today’s lesson, he concludes previous chapters of argument with the dramatic words, “For freedom Christ has set you free! Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.”
Paul equates submission to the law code and the cultural practices of Judaism with slavery to a system that has been abolished by the power of Christ. He insists that the Greek Galatians are claimed and adopted by God simply and perfectly by the sacrificial faith of Jesus Christ.
Paul focuses on the freedom of Christians throughout the book of Galatians, and in this passage speaks specifically about freedom as a pathway, one that we “walk” and “keep in step with” the Spirit, or one which we diverge from if we find ourselves living in self centered or divisive ways.
It is as if the freedom road on which he guides the recipients of this letter has some very dangerous offshoots, and Paul is assuring us that while the rival missionaries believe that the Law is the only map for humans to stay on course, Paul believes that the Holy Spirit is the uniquely adequate and essential guide along the path of freedom.
Paul’s antidote to slavery is freedom found in Christ. And Paul’s antidote to excessive behavior that he fears would result from this freedom is slavery to one another. It is as if Thomas Jefferson wrote in the Declaration of Independence, “and if any of these freedoms that we find self evident in humanity should infringe on the good of all, then we declare that we have strayed from the hallowed path of freedom and should seek the binds that draw us again to one another as a society.”
Rev. Timothy Downs writes in a sermon called “Jesus Means Freedom, “Now, in Galatia, Paul makes it clear-by God's grace we are free, but it's an interesting kind of freedom, a freedom that is not just, "Okay I can do anything I please." It is a freedom that leads to more questions. Here is another easy answer to what it means to be saved. St. Augustine once said, "Love God and do as you please." Is that easy or is it complex? Our freedom in faith is framed by a covenant, by a love of God. Freedom is not license.”
He continues, “It is freedom to act within the context of a relationship with God, a relationship of love. Paul reminds the people of Galatia that we are called to respond to a loving and graceful God by loving our neighbor as ourselves. That means that we are to show esteem for our neighbors and ourselves.
We are to desire to help our neighbor. We are free not simply to be at liberty, but we are free to be more freely loving; and if we are more freely loving, we will be a people who seek a more just and supportive society in which people, to use Paul's words, "no longer bite and devour one another."
The message of v. 13, then, is, “Do not allow freedom to become a base of operations for the hostile power of the Flesh.” How? By becoming “slaves to one another.” If the way to keep Flesh from gaining a base of operations is through loving, mutual service, this suggests that the power of Flesh will try to manifest itself through pride, rivalry, and autonomy.
The Spirit, on the other hand, manifests itself in community in what Paul refers to as fruit. Fruit cannot be humanly manufactured; it can grow only organically, as God gives the growth—in this case, through the life-giving energy of the Spirit
"The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self control." These are not laws for behavior, but these are the characteristics of those who in their freedom are open and responsive to the creative spirit of God. There is no law but freedom. But that freedom is framed by a context, by a covenant of mutuality and of love.
When we find our community of faith bearing these fruit, we can be assured that we are living lives in accord with the Spirit. If we instead find other things coming out of our community, we have perhaps become a fortress of the Flesh.
God strengthens us in the fruit of the Spirit through this meal that we come together to celebrate this morning. Through the fruit of the vine and the wheat of the fields, God imparts the Holy Spirit unto our existence. We pray that the Spirit brings us unity to be “one with Christ, one with each other, and one in ministry to all the world.”
John Wesley mentions in his notes on these verses that “Works are mentioned in the plural because they are distinct from, and often inconsistent with, each other.”
I would add to Wesley’s observation that the Works of the flesh are not only sometimes inconsistent with each other, but they also tear us apart from one another. We shouldn’t hear the word “flesh” and think that Paul is referring solely to sexual sins. His concentration is instead more on the particular works of the flesh that cause division in the community: enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy. Wesley pictures for us these works of the Flesh nailed upon the cross in reference to Paul’s words in v. 24 “Nailed it, as it were, to a cross whence it has no power to break loose, but is continually weaker and weaker.” All of these poisons inhibit us from the greatest law, which both Paul and Jesus locate for us in Leviticus: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.”
In this, the “higher law,” the “temple” of our faith, we are drawn closer together, we are bound as one. Wesley also notes that "the fruit of the Spirit" is mentioned in the singular, ver. 22, as being all consistent and connected together.” Likewise, these gifts and virtues are not only interconnected and flow out of one another, but they usher in unity and harmony among those whom they come to fruition.
So, may we walk by the Spirit. May we be guided along the path of love and righteousness. May our lives bear fruit for the kingdom of God. May we offer tangible and nourishing expression of the Spirit’s activity in our lives by our prayers, our presence, our gifts, and our service. And by the Holy Spirit’s power through this meal we are about to share, may we be one with Christ, one with each other, and one in ministry to all the world.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Sermon--One
Sermon Texts:
Galatians 3: 23-29
John 17: 20-23
When I was 14 years old, a beautiful and mysterious song by U2 came out on the radio that remains to this day one of my favorite songs. I found it echoing in my mind as I read over Paul’s letter to the Galatians this week. Though the song “One” is open to interpretation, and Paul’s letter is written quite directly, I hear them saying very similar things: namely, “We’re one, but we’re not the same, we’ve got to carry each other.”
The story surrounding the creation of this song is that while recording the album “Achtung Baby” in Berlin, two of the band members, Bono and the Edge, wanted to start exploring a new musical direction, namely electronica, while Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen Jr. favored the straight forward rock music that they were known for performing so powerfully throughout the 80’s. The band had been together for more than 10 years, and their relationship was beginning to strain. The band attributes their focus on putting together this song with re-unifying them as a band. As this song came into being, they put aside their differences and understood that sometimes creating something beautiful takes some tension.
This tension was also felt in the beginnings of Christianity. Paul and some of his followers were advocating a certain way of interpreting Christ’s impact on the world, and James and Peter and some others in Jerusalem were insisting on another way. Paul’s letter to the Galatians is rife with evidence of this tension, but somehow the Spirit of God brought something beautiful out of the tension of those early years.
Let’s listen together:
In the Gospel lesson today, we heard Jesus’ prayer that his disciples might be “one” as he and God the Father are “one.” Paul would speak of us becoming one with one another by “putting on Christ” in baptism. Christ’s desire for his disciples to become one with each other would occur through the radical act of faith that it took for him to walk into the hands of those who would crucify him. Our church came to see that sacrifice as an “atonement.”
We usually think of the atonement being the forgiveness of our sins that was achieved through Christ’s death on the cross. The word “atone” might create images in your mind of a sacrifice, blood, or tears. But, today I want you to have in your mind the actual word atone. If we break it down into two words we get “at one.”
Paul speaks quite beautifully in this chapter about the cross of Jesus carrying out our salvation, bringing us into a rectified relationship with God. Paul speaks about being crucified WITH Christ. He sees that trust in Christ’s act of faith gives all of us who hold this trust the new relationship of Christ’s own relationship with God. Verse 26 says quite plainly, “IN Christ Jesus, you are all children of God through faith.” Paul’s view of atonement in the letter to the Galatians is not “forgiveness.” Indeed, the word forgiveness is never used in the letter. Instead, atonement is about “at one ment.” It is about taking on a new identity as one who is unified with Christ’s identity. This is the gift of our Lord.
Haven’t you ever put on a really nice suit and felt 10 times more confident? When I was a kid, I really wanted a leather bomber jacket. I never got one, but I did get a green suade leather jacket. It didn’t have a cool bomber collar, but I felt cool like Tom Cruise in Top Gun.
The language of being “clothed with” some attribute is pervasive in the OT. To take a single example, the psalmist prays that Israel's priests might be “clothed with righteousness,” and later in the same psalm God declares, “Its priests I will clothe with salvation” (Ps 132:9, 16 NRSV).
To be “clothed” with some quality or attribute is to take on the characteristics of that in which one is clothed. None of the many OT examples refer to being “clothed in” a person. Paul's language of “putting on Christ” is another figurative way of describing the mysterious personal union with Christ to which he referred in last week’s scripture. In such a union, those who are “in Christ” share in his divine sonship and take on his character. Clothed in Christ, I am personally a new creation. As a community, we are a new creation.
The oneness of God can be rightly reflected only in a community unified by the fulfillment of God's promise in Christ. (NT Wright)
If we come here and pay lip service to the idea that we are one in Christ Jesus, and then we turn around and live in a way that preaches division, racism, and barriers, then we might as well hang a sign outside the door of the church that says, “we ask you to enter, but then we make you crawl.”
It isn’t just blatant actions of division and barriers that preach this to the world either. No, like any good speaker, we can lay subtle cues and signs that point to something larger and bolder quite clearly. We preach division and barriers sometimes even unconsciously. Our confession that we prayed today states, “Lord, we confess that by silence and ill-considered word we have built up walls of predjudice.” So—we must purge ourselves of those poisons. We must loose ourselves from those shackles, because we have been freed and transformed by Christ! “One Love, One Blood, One Life, You know you got to do what you should. One life, with each other—sisters, brothers.”
Ask God for forgiveness! Ask God to cleanse you outside and inside of the walls of division and barriers that we may unconsciously guard because we might really and actually believe that we are worth more to God than another child of God. God, work on us as individuals and as collectives. Bring us to a greater understanding of the oneness of your people. Help us live the truth that in you there is no East or West, no North or South, in you there is no black or white or brown or red. In you there is no 1st world or 3rd world, no male or female or anything in between, no straight or gay, no American or Iraqi.
If we live this truth, if we internalize the one-ness that exists in the community if the community dwells in the authentic presence of Christ, then we’re not “playing Jesus, to the lepers in our head.” We are boldly being Christ for the world! If we magnify our oneness in Christ, then it gives us reason to sing with authenticity the message of the Gospel: “Love is a Temple, Love is the higher law!”
Galatians 3: 23-29
John 17: 20-23
When I was 14 years old, a beautiful and mysterious song by U2 came out on the radio that remains to this day one of my favorite songs. I found it echoing in my mind as I read over Paul’s letter to the Galatians this week. Though the song “One” is open to interpretation, and Paul’s letter is written quite directly, I hear them saying very similar things: namely, “We’re one, but we’re not the same, we’ve got to carry each other.”
The story surrounding the creation of this song is that while recording the album “Achtung Baby” in Berlin, two of the band members, Bono and the Edge, wanted to start exploring a new musical direction, namely electronica, while Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen Jr. favored the straight forward rock music that they were known for performing so powerfully throughout the 80’s. The band had been together for more than 10 years, and their relationship was beginning to strain. The band attributes their focus on putting together this song with re-unifying them as a band. As this song came into being, they put aside their differences and understood that sometimes creating something beautiful takes some tension.
This tension was also felt in the beginnings of Christianity. Paul and some of his followers were advocating a certain way of interpreting Christ’s impact on the world, and James and Peter and some others in Jerusalem were insisting on another way. Paul’s letter to the Galatians is rife with evidence of this tension, but somehow the Spirit of God brought something beautiful out of the tension of those early years.
Let’s listen together:
In the Gospel lesson today, we heard Jesus’ prayer that his disciples might be “one” as he and God the Father are “one.” Paul would speak of us becoming one with one another by “putting on Christ” in baptism. Christ’s desire for his disciples to become one with each other would occur through the radical act of faith that it took for him to walk into the hands of those who would crucify him. Our church came to see that sacrifice as an “atonement.”
We usually think of the atonement being the forgiveness of our sins that was achieved through Christ’s death on the cross. The word “atone” might create images in your mind of a sacrifice, blood, or tears. But, today I want you to have in your mind the actual word atone. If we break it down into two words we get “at one.”
Paul speaks quite beautifully in this chapter about the cross of Jesus carrying out our salvation, bringing us into a rectified relationship with God. Paul speaks about being crucified WITH Christ. He sees that trust in Christ’s act of faith gives all of us who hold this trust the new relationship of Christ’s own relationship with God. Verse 26 says quite plainly, “IN Christ Jesus, you are all children of God through faith.” Paul’s view of atonement in the letter to the Galatians is not “forgiveness.” Indeed, the word forgiveness is never used in the letter. Instead, atonement is about “at one ment.” It is about taking on a new identity as one who is unified with Christ’s identity. This is the gift of our Lord.
Haven’t you ever put on a really nice suit and felt 10 times more confident? When I was a kid, I really wanted a leather bomber jacket. I never got one, but I did get a green suade leather jacket. It didn’t have a cool bomber collar, but I felt cool like Tom Cruise in Top Gun.
The language of being “clothed with” some attribute is pervasive in the OT. To take a single example, the psalmist prays that Israel's priests might be “clothed with righteousness,” and later in the same psalm God declares, “Its priests I will clothe with salvation” (Ps 132:9, 16 NRSV).
To be “clothed” with some quality or attribute is to take on the characteristics of that in which one is clothed. None of the many OT examples refer to being “clothed in” a person. Paul's language of “putting on Christ” is another figurative way of describing the mysterious personal union with Christ to which he referred in last week’s scripture. In such a union, those who are “in Christ” share in his divine sonship and take on his character. Clothed in Christ, I am personally a new creation. As a community, we are a new creation.
The oneness of God can be rightly reflected only in a community unified by the fulfillment of God's promise in Christ. (NT Wright)
If we come here and pay lip service to the idea that we are one in Christ Jesus, and then we turn around and live in a way that preaches division, racism, and barriers, then we might as well hang a sign outside the door of the church that says, “we ask you to enter, but then we make you crawl.”
It isn’t just blatant actions of division and barriers that preach this to the world either. No, like any good speaker, we can lay subtle cues and signs that point to something larger and bolder quite clearly. We preach division and barriers sometimes even unconsciously. Our confession that we prayed today states, “Lord, we confess that by silence and ill-considered word we have built up walls of predjudice.” So—we must purge ourselves of those poisons. We must loose ourselves from those shackles, because we have been freed and transformed by Christ! “One Love, One Blood, One Life, You know you got to do what you should. One life, with each other—sisters, brothers.”
Ask God for forgiveness! Ask God to cleanse you outside and inside of the walls of division and barriers that we may unconsciously guard because we might really and actually believe that we are worth more to God than another child of God. God, work on us as individuals and as collectives. Bring us to a greater understanding of the oneness of your people. Help us live the truth that in you there is no East or West, no North or South, in you there is no black or white or brown or red. In you there is no 1st world or 3rd world, no male or female or anything in between, no straight or gay, no American or Iraqi.
If we live this truth, if we internalize the one-ness that exists in the community if the community dwells in the authentic presence of Christ, then we’re not “playing Jesus, to the lepers in our head.” We are boldly being Christ for the world! If we magnify our oneness in Christ, then it gives us reason to sing with authenticity the message of the Gospel: “Love is a Temple, Love is the higher law!”
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Religion and Ethics Newsweekly
Here's how I keep up with faith life meeting current events. This week's program was good, with stories on the church sanctuary movement (to house illegal immigrants) and a story on street children in Brazil and a evangelical aid orgainization that helps them. I recommend you tune in to Religion and Ethics Newsweekly on Sunday afternoons to PBS. You can also follow the link the website, where you can also watch the videos.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Are you hungry for Indian Tacos?
We hope you are by Saturday! We'll be hosting a community wide Indian Taco Dinner to raise money for our July Mission trip. Be there! $5 donation per plate, kids half portion for $3. 5-7 pm. After dinner we'll have some good Oklahoma country fried entertainment with a game of "cow pattie bingo" you pay $5 for one of the few remaining squares, and if the heifer makes a pattie in your square, you win $100! Now that's fun! Don't worry, several of our professional livestock judges will be on hand to settle any disputes as to who's square is the fortunate one!
Update on Incredible Pizza
On Sunday, June 24, the youth (including our new 6th graders!) will be travelling to Tulsa to spend some time at Incredible Pizza with Okmulgee First UMC! We'll gather in Morris First UMC parking lot and leave at 2:30. You need to bring $15, and that will cover your dinner buffet and a $10 games card. With that, you can mini-golf, bowl, ride go-carts, play arcade games, or whatever else they have to offer. If you want to bring more than that--it's up to you! We'll be getting a group rate with Okmulgee First UMC, but we need a rough estimate of how many to expect so we can prepare for travel and let the folks know at Incredible Pizza. Please leave a comment if you plan to go or are available to drive. Or, if you can't figure that out, just call the church and leave a message!
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Table Manners
Sermon Texts: Luke 7:36-8:3
Galatians 2: 11-21
Lately, Lara and I have been trying to develop a sense of table manners with Wesley. He has moved from sitting in a high chair to sitting on one of our barstools pulled up to the table during dinner time. We haven’t quite gotten to the “no elbows on the table,” and “no chewing with your mouth open” rules. Instead we are focusing more on “no chewing up your cheese and then spitting it out on the floor,” and “no standing in your chair.” I’m sure we have a long road ahead of us!
We human beings spend a lot of time trying to cultivate a sense of appropriateness and taboos at the table. Perhaps we have an innate sense of the sacredness of this time of fellowship around a meal.
Jesus’ table customs would have looked quite strange to us. In his culture, the tables were very low to the ground so that one would usually eat while reclining with your feet facing away from the table. Perhaps that changes the picture in your mind of the gospel story we heard today.
Also in Jesus’ time, and in the era and culture of the early church, it was customary for Jews to segregate themselves during meal times. It was not written in Torah, but it was a cultural norm that was commented on by Jewish and Roman historians of the time. Jews segregated themselves from Gentiles while eating, and they did so largely because they were afraid of losing their dietary identity that had been set down in the Law. This is something that Paul came to detest, and writes quite passionately about in today’s passage from Galatians.
I am reminded of the common high school lay out of table hierarchy that existed when I was in school: athletic people over here, preps over here, “goat-ropers” over here, skaters over there, band nerds over here, etc. etc.
In this letter, Paul is taking his fellow missionaries to task for failing to abide by the truth of the Gospel. He has witnessed Peter fellowshipping with the Gentiles at a common table during mealtimes, but when James and his “party” come to town, Peter and even Barnabas “draw back” from the Gentiles and refuse to fraternize with them because James’s bunch is very vocal about Gentiles needing to conform to Jewish cultural mores to follow Christ. Mind you, the Gentile “God-fearers” in Antioch had already most likely adopted Jewish customs and dietary prohibitions (because Paul doesn’t mention that as being a problem)—Peter and the other apostles were simply drawing back from the Gentiles because he was a Jew and they were Gentiles.
Paul describes this mass withdrawal from the one table as “hypocrisy” (hypokrisis, v. 13). The Greek word does not have quite the same connotation of malicious duplicity that is present in the English. In Greek, the (hypokrites) is an actor, someone who wears a mask and plays a role. Thus hypokrisis is the act of playing out a scripted role. Paul's point is that Peter and the other Jewish Christians at Antioch are caught up in playing a part that does not represent their own considered convictions; they are caving in to external pressure, carrying out someone else's agenda. This is another way of expressing the charge of people pleasing.
Paul was standing up for a pretty unpopular side of the argument among his fellow missionaries. But he insisted that the truth of the Gospel was not fused with Jewish cultural identity. Love and fellowship outweighed any commitments to cultural preservation. Imagine how the Love of Christ was communicated to the Gentiles when the Jewish missionaries who brought the message of this new life in Christ abandoned the cultural practices the Gentiles expected of them to instead have direct and full fellowship with them!
When we get mission and evangelism right, this is what happens. For a period in our history, mission work meant cultural conversion. Most likely because we practiced and still practice a cultural religion, we for some time thought that showing Christ to Africa meant making the Africans more like Americans. We thought Christianity was the wrapping paper on the true gift of American styles of dress and taste, American taboos and language.
What Paul was doing back in the first generation of Christianity was the radical freeing of the Good News from the cultural identity that he had known and loved his entire life. What he wanted the Jerusalem church to know was that when we give the Gospel to people of other cultures, we should be prepared to take some of them into us. We should celebrate the skate-park ministries, the online porn-site ministries, the African churches that end up looking and feeling so different from our own expression of faith. Those who sit at the table with people who hold very different values and customs than our own should be celebrated instead of suspected.
What are the examples of Christians’ weariness to have table fellowship with Gentiles are there today? Our unease to go into the bars and the clubs and look to build authentic felloship? Our denominational predjudices? Our inhospitality with those who some in our community feel are “abnormal?” If we fail to show the love of Christ to those on the margins because we are afraid of what others in our church may associate us with, then we are containing the love of Christ. We are keeping a lid on it.
Christ’s love is free grace, and if we attempt to yoke it to all kinds of rules and regulations, then we are standing in the corner with Simon the Pharisee scoffing at how Jesus is tenderly responding to the harlot. Or we are drawing back from the table of fellowship with Peter and Barnabas and we should hear Paul’s anger being directed our way.
Crucified with Christ, it is Christ who lives in me! Who am I to limit the love of Christ, through my own unwillingness to love and have fellowship with all of God’s people? Paul is describing the experience of having his former life-world terminated and entering a new sphere of reality where he is no longer in charge. This is not merely a matter of having his sins forgiven (indeed, Paul never mentions “forgiveness” in this letter); instead, it is a matter of being transformed for service. Paul finds himself—to his own great surprise—the instrument of Christ's reconciling love, the agent of Christ's mission to a world of Gentiles whom he previously regarded as unclean “dogs.”
“It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me.” Having died to his old identity, and to the Law that shaped that identity, Paul lives in the mysterious power of the risen Christ. This means that all his values and practices are reshaped in accordance with the identity of the crucified one. The character of that identity is sketched by the latter part of v. 20: “The life I now live in the flesh I live by faith—that is, by the faith of the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.” The hallmarks of this new identity are love and self-giving, rather than circumcision and Law observance. All of this has obvious implications for the debate over table fellowship with Gentiles.
These hallmarks of Christ are also on display in the Gospel passage from Luke. Jesus commends the woman for her faith and display of honor and love. Jesus is able to look deeper into her identity than the judgmental Simon, who scoffs that Jesus must not be who he had at first thought.
Simon, forming his spiritual worldview out of a legalistic attention to issues of “outsider” and “insider,” looks down on the woman because of her reputation and the damage it brings to his own stature. Jesus, forming his spiritual worldview out of a prophetic reversal of “outsider” and “insider” sees the act of devotion as an expression of the woman’s gratitude and faith. He holds her up as fulfilling a higher law: hospitality. It is in the fellowship that Christ becomes alive and real, not in the observance of all the rules and laws. Christ forgives, he loves sinners.
Wherever we see Christians trying to rebuild walls of separation in the church, walls that separate people along ethnic or cultural lines, we can be sure that the integrity of the gospel is being violated, and, like Paul, we should feel compelled to speak out against such practices. Paul goes on to say in the next chapter of Galatians that we should refrain from making distinctions among ourselves and segregating ourselves from one another because “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” If we withdraw from fellowship with someone or some particular group of people because of our cultural norms, we are missing this opportunity to know Christ so much more deeply.
One of the most remarkable stories of this kind from recent history emerged from the bloody conflict in Rwanda, where in 1994 members of the Hutu tribe carried out mass murders of the Tutsi tribe. At the town of Ruhanga, fifteen kilometers outside Kigali, a group of 13,500 Christians had gathered for refuge. They were of various denominations: Anglicans, Roman Catholics, Pentecostals, Baptists, and others. According to the account of a witness to the scene, “When the militias came, they ordered the Hutus and Tutsis to separate themselves by tribe.
The people refused and declared that they were all one in Christ, and for that they were all killed,” gunned down en masse and dumped into mass graves. It is a disturbing story, but it is also a compelling witness to the power of the gospel to overcome ethnic division. Paul would have regarded these Rwandan martyrs as faithful witnesses to the truth of the gospel. Having been “crucified with Christ,” they preferred to die rather than to deny the grace of God that had made them one in Christ.A very poignant truth that I have heard over the years and have just been waiting and waiting to express to you is that when a new person joins this family of faith with vows of membership, we become a brand new body of Christ. Instead of viewing that new person as being “grafted on” to the existing body, we must instead see how that new person’s gifts and graces change the whole body into something new. This is a struggle that was being faced by the early church. The Jerusalem church, led by James the brother of Jesus, saw the Gentiles as “grafted on.” Paul saw the inclusion of the Gentiles as being reformative. God was doing a new thing, and this meant something to his own relationship with God. With joy, Paul celebrated a new understanding of a relationship that was even deeper than he had at first imagined.
Galatians 2: 11-21
Lately, Lara and I have been trying to develop a sense of table manners with Wesley. He has moved from sitting in a high chair to sitting on one of our barstools pulled up to the table during dinner time. We haven’t quite gotten to the “no elbows on the table,” and “no chewing with your mouth open” rules. Instead we are focusing more on “no chewing up your cheese and then spitting it out on the floor,” and “no standing in your chair.” I’m sure we have a long road ahead of us!
We human beings spend a lot of time trying to cultivate a sense of appropriateness and taboos at the table. Perhaps we have an innate sense of the sacredness of this time of fellowship around a meal.
Jesus’ table customs would have looked quite strange to us. In his culture, the tables were very low to the ground so that one would usually eat while reclining with your feet facing away from the table. Perhaps that changes the picture in your mind of the gospel story we heard today.
Also in Jesus’ time, and in the era and culture of the early church, it was customary for Jews to segregate themselves during meal times. It was not written in Torah, but it was a cultural norm that was commented on by Jewish and Roman historians of the time. Jews segregated themselves from Gentiles while eating, and they did so largely because they were afraid of losing their dietary identity that had been set down in the Law. This is something that Paul came to detest, and writes quite passionately about in today’s passage from Galatians.
I am reminded of the common high school lay out of table hierarchy that existed when I was in school: athletic people over here, preps over here, “goat-ropers” over here, skaters over there, band nerds over here, etc. etc.
In this letter, Paul is taking his fellow missionaries to task for failing to abide by the truth of the Gospel. He has witnessed Peter fellowshipping with the Gentiles at a common table during mealtimes, but when James and his “party” come to town, Peter and even Barnabas “draw back” from the Gentiles and refuse to fraternize with them because James’s bunch is very vocal about Gentiles needing to conform to Jewish cultural mores to follow Christ. Mind you, the Gentile “God-fearers” in Antioch had already most likely adopted Jewish customs and dietary prohibitions (because Paul doesn’t mention that as being a problem)—Peter and the other apostles were simply drawing back from the Gentiles because he was a Jew and they were Gentiles.
Paul describes this mass withdrawal from the one table as “hypocrisy” (hypokrisis, v. 13). The Greek word does not have quite the same connotation of malicious duplicity that is present in the English. In Greek, the (hypokrites) is an actor, someone who wears a mask and plays a role. Thus hypokrisis is the act of playing out a scripted role. Paul's point is that Peter and the other Jewish Christians at Antioch are caught up in playing a part that does not represent their own considered convictions; they are caving in to external pressure, carrying out someone else's agenda. This is another way of expressing the charge of people pleasing.
Paul was standing up for a pretty unpopular side of the argument among his fellow missionaries. But he insisted that the truth of the Gospel was not fused with Jewish cultural identity. Love and fellowship outweighed any commitments to cultural preservation. Imagine how the Love of Christ was communicated to the Gentiles when the Jewish missionaries who brought the message of this new life in Christ abandoned the cultural practices the Gentiles expected of them to instead have direct and full fellowship with them!
When we get mission and evangelism right, this is what happens. For a period in our history, mission work meant cultural conversion. Most likely because we practiced and still practice a cultural religion, we for some time thought that showing Christ to Africa meant making the Africans more like Americans. We thought Christianity was the wrapping paper on the true gift of American styles of dress and taste, American taboos and language.
What Paul was doing back in the first generation of Christianity was the radical freeing of the Good News from the cultural identity that he had known and loved his entire life. What he wanted the Jerusalem church to know was that when we give the Gospel to people of other cultures, we should be prepared to take some of them into us. We should celebrate the skate-park ministries, the online porn-site ministries, the African churches that end up looking and feeling so different from our own expression of faith. Those who sit at the table with people who hold very different values and customs than our own should be celebrated instead of suspected.
What are the examples of Christians’ weariness to have table fellowship with Gentiles are there today? Our unease to go into the bars and the clubs and look to build authentic felloship? Our denominational predjudices? Our inhospitality with those who some in our community feel are “abnormal?” If we fail to show the love of Christ to those on the margins because we are afraid of what others in our church may associate us with, then we are containing the love of Christ. We are keeping a lid on it.
Christ’s love is free grace, and if we attempt to yoke it to all kinds of rules and regulations, then we are standing in the corner with Simon the Pharisee scoffing at how Jesus is tenderly responding to the harlot. Or we are drawing back from the table of fellowship with Peter and Barnabas and we should hear Paul’s anger being directed our way.
Crucified with Christ, it is Christ who lives in me! Who am I to limit the love of Christ, through my own unwillingness to love and have fellowship with all of God’s people? Paul is describing the experience of having his former life-world terminated and entering a new sphere of reality where he is no longer in charge. This is not merely a matter of having his sins forgiven (indeed, Paul never mentions “forgiveness” in this letter); instead, it is a matter of being transformed for service. Paul finds himself—to his own great surprise—the instrument of Christ's reconciling love, the agent of Christ's mission to a world of Gentiles whom he previously regarded as unclean “dogs.”
“It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me.” Having died to his old identity, and to the Law that shaped that identity, Paul lives in the mysterious power of the risen Christ. This means that all his values and practices are reshaped in accordance with the identity of the crucified one. The character of that identity is sketched by the latter part of v. 20: “The life I now live in the flesh I live by faith—that is, by the faith of the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me.” The hallmarks of this new identity are love and self-giving, rather than circumcision and Law observance. All of this has obvious implications for the debate over table fellowship with Gentiles.
These hallmarks of Christ are also on display in the Gospel passage from Luke. Jesus commends the woman for her faith and display of honor and love. Jesus is able to look deeper into her identity than the judgmental Simon, who scoffs that Jesus must not be who he had at first thought.
Simon, forming his spiritual worldview out of a legalistic attention to issues of “outsider” and “insider,” looks down on the woman because of her reputation and the damage it brings to his own stature. Jesus, forming his spiritual worldview out of a prophetic reversal of “outsider” and “insider” sees the act of devotion as an expression of the woman’s gratitude and faith. He holds her up as fulfilling a higher law: hospitality. It is in the fellowship that Christ becomes alive and real, not in the observance of all the rules and laws. Christ forgives, he loves sinners.
Wherever we see Christians trying to rebuild walls of separation in the church, walls that separate people along ethnic or cultural lines, we can be sure that the integrity of the gospel is being violated, and, like Paul, we should feel compelled to speak out against such practices. Paul goes on to say in the next chapter of Galatians that we should refrain from making distinctions among ourselves and segregating ourselves from one another because “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” If we withdraw from fellowship with someone or some particular group of people because of our cultural norms, we are missing this opportunity to know Christ so much more deeply.
One of the most remarkable stories of this kind from recent history emerged from the bloody conflict in Rwanda, where in 1994 members of the Hutu tribe carried out mass murders of the Tutsi tribe. At the town of Ruhanga, fifteen kilometers outside Kigali, a group of 13,500 Christians had gathered for refuge. They were of various denominations: Anglicans, Roman Catholics, Pentecostals, Baptists, and others. According to the account of a witness to the scene, “When the militias came, they ordered the Hutus and Tutsis to separate themselves by tribe.
The people refused and declared that they were all one in Christ, and for that they were all killed,” gunned down en masse and dumped into mass graves. It is a disturbing story, but it is also a compelling witness to the power of the gospel to overcome ethnic division. Paul would have regarded these Rwandan martyrs as faithful witnesses to the truth of the gospel. Having been “crucified with Christ,” they preferred to die rather than to deny the grace of God that had made them one in Christ.A very poignant truth that I have heard over the years and have just been waiting and waiting to express to you is that when a new person joins this family of faith with vows of membership, we become a brand new body of Christ. Instead of viewing that new person as being “grafted on” to the existing body, we must instead see how that new person’s gifts and graces change the whole body into something new. This is a struggle that was being faced by the early church. The Jerusalem church, led by James the brother of Jesus, saw the Gentiles as “grafted on.” Paul saw the inclusion of the Gentiles as being reformative. God was doing a new thing, and this meant something to his own relationship with God. With joy, Paul celebrated a new understanding of a relationship that was even deeper than he had at first imagined.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Hymn Sing Testimony
yesterday, our worship service was centered on praising God through song. Nathan commented on the hymnal's structure, We had hymn requests, we sung our confession, affirmation, and other prayers came from the Psalms. We also had a testimony on Colossians 3: 16 by Lara. Here's what she said:
“How are you?” How many times in a day do we hear or speak these words? You ask others this question, or you ask the question of other people when you’re at the grocery store, the bank, the doctor’s office, the post office, the gas station.
Let’s say you go up to pay for your bag of chips and a coke, and the cashier asks, “How are you?” Does he really care? Maybe not. Does he even hear you answer, “Fine, how are you?” Often, the question just seems like words…social niceties that don’t really mean much. In fact, if you mention that you’re not doing so well, it’s a bit of a faux-pas. Just smile, say “fine,” and everyone can move about their day.
What if you meet up with a really good friend, someone you know cares about you, and she asks the same question, “How are you?” Do you think she cares? Does she hear your answer? Is she irritated when you say you’ve had better days? They are the same three words, so what’s the difference between the situations? You can tell from the tone of voice. Flat or caring? You can tell from the eye contact or the lack thereof. You can tell from the facial expression. Nonplussed or concerned? You can tell the difference.
We have some wonderful spoken traditions in our faith: the Lord’s Prayer, the creeds, the Communion liturgy, and many others. Sometimes though, our minds are elsewhere. Like the cashier, asking “how are you?” because “that’s what you do”, we just say the words we have memorized, we just go through the motions. When we do that, we’re just engaging in a custom, but without meaning. As with these spoken traditions and liturgies, it is easy to forget the rich meaning of the lyrics of hymns. Perhaps you know the words of the hymn so well that you just go through the motions. Or perhaps it’s a new hymn to you, so you’re concerned more about the tune than the words. Our task is to let the words of these hymns “dwell in you richly.” Soak in the words, reflect on them, find in them their meaning for you. Be mind-full, instead of mind-less about the lyrics. Let the words “dwell in you richly,” as Paul admonishes the Colossians.
Ever been to a gathering, like a Sunday school class, a Thanksgiving meal, or other situation, where someone says, “Who would like to offer a prayer?” There’s often an awkward silence because no one wants to say they wouldn’t like to offer the prayer, but no one is really volunteering either. I suspect lots of people are thinking something like, “I don’t know how to pray…I’ll sound stupid…I’ll stumble over my words.” So, it seems like the same people often end up doing the prayer, the people who seem to know just the right words to say, and the prayer seems to flow effortlessly from their lips. I know God rejoices in their prayers, but there is another kind of prayer, too. Often, at the end of Children’s Church, little Jackson sitting up here in front of the altar, offers a prayer. She offers not the prayer of a well-spoken adult, with all the “right” words, but a prayer from her heart, no trace of self-consciousness at all. It’s just Jackson and God, communing together, and it is beautiful.
Maybe it’s a similar situation with hymns, which are another form of prayer, set to music. There are certain people who are known to have a good voice, who volunteer to be the song leaders and the soloists. And the rest of us, myself included, are hesitant to join in a hymn, thinking, “I don’t have a good voice…I’ll sound like an idiot.” Try to let go of your self-consciousness. Let your voice rise along with the other members of the congregation in song. Let God hear your voice join in the collective musical prayer, let God hear you rejoice. Don’t be shy, don’t worry if you sing a little off key. Don’t worry if the person next to you is a “good singer,” and you’re not. Just let it be you and God, communing together, and it will be beautiful. Sing…sing like you mean it!!
“How are you?” How many times in a day do we hear or speak these words? You ask others this question, or you ask the question of other people when you’re at the grocery store, the bank, the doctor’s office, the post office, the gas station.
Let’s say you go up to pay for your bag of chips and a coke, and the cashier asks, “How are you?” Does he really care? Maybe not. Does he even hear you answer, “Fine, how are you?” Often, the question just seems like words…social niceties that don’t really mean much. In fact, if you mention that you’re not doing so well, it’s a bit of a faux-pas. Just smile, say “fine,” and everyone can move about their day.
What if you meet up with a really good friend, someone you know cares about you, and she asks the same question, “How are you?” Do you think she cares? Does she hear your answer? Is she irritated when you say you’ve had better days? They are the same three words, so what’s the difference between the situations? You can tell from the tone of voice. Flat or caring? You can tell from the eye contact or the lack thereof. You can tell from the facial expression. Nonplussed or concerned? You can tell the difference.
We have some wonderful spoken traditions in our faith: the Lord’s Prayer, the creeds, the Communion liturgy, and many others. Sometimes though, our minds are elsewhere. Like the cashier, asking “how are you?” because “that’s what you do”, we just say the words we have memorized, we just go through the motions. When we do that, we’re just engaging in a custom, but without meaning. As with these spoken traditions and liturgies, it is easy to forget the rich meaning of the lyrics of hymns. Perhaps you know the words of the hymn so well that you just go through the motions. Or perhaps it’s a new hymn to you, so you’re concerned more about the tune than the words. Our task is to let the words of these hymns “dwell in you richly.” Soak in the words, reflect on them, find in them their meaning for you. Be mind-full, instead of mind-less about the lyrics. Let the words “dwell in you richly,” as Paul admonishes the Colossians.
Ever been to a gathering, like a Sunday school class, a Thanksgiving meal, or other situation, where someone says, “Who would like to offer a prayer?” There’s often an awkward silence because no one wants to say they wouldn’t like to offer the prayer, but no one is really volunteering either. I suspect lots of people are thinking something like, “I don’t know how to pray…I’ll sound stupid…I’ll stumble over my words.” So, it seems like the same people often end up doing the prayer, the people who seem to know just the right words to say, and the prayer seems to flow effortlessly from their lips. I know God rejoices in their prayers, but there is another kind of prayer, too. Often, at the end of Children’s Church, little Jackson sitting up here in front of the altar, offers a prayer. She offers not the prayer of a well-spoken adult, with all the “right” words, but a prayer from her heart, no trace of self-consciousness at all. It’s just Jackson and God, communing together, and it is beautiful.
Maybe it’s a similar situation with hymns, which are another form of prayer, set to music. There are certain people who are known to have a good voice, who volunteer to be the song leaders and the soloists. And the rest of us, myself included, are hesitant to join in a hymn, thinking, “I don’t have a good voice…I’ll sound like an idiot.” Try to let go of your self-consciousness. Let your voice rise along with the other members of the congregation in song. Let God hear your voice join in the collective musical prayer, let God hear you rejoice. Don’t be shy, don’t worry if you sing a little off key. Don’t worry if the person next to you is a “good singer,” and you’re not. Just let it be you and God, communing together, and it will be beautiful. Sing…sing like you mean it!!
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
June 24 Youth outing to Incredible Pizza
On June 24, at 2:30 pm, we'll leave for Tulsa for a day at Incredible Pizza with the youth from Okmulgee First UMC. You'll need 15 bucks for dinner and admission. We're celebrating the presence of our new upcoming 6th graders, so they are more than welcome to come. If you're interested in being a driver/sponsor, please let Nathan know soon so we can get you a form to complete. We'll be back around 8pm
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Doctrine and our Theological Task 6 week summer study starts this Thursday
The pastor has been asked several times at this church and others "What do we believe about...?" (Fill in the blank, there). If you have ever found yourself wondering this same question, this may be the study for you! Instead of approaching this study as a "we believe this, we believe that" type of thing, though, this will be an invitation for you to come and claim the doctrines' meanings in your own life.
Child care is provided, and we meet from 6:30 to around 7:45. Hope to see you there. If you want to order a Book of Discipline, the latest is the 2004 edition, however not much has changed in this section of the BOD, so any will probably do.
Child care is provided, and we meet from 6:30 to around 7:45. Hope to see you there. If you want to order a Book of Discipline, the latest is the 2004 edition, however not much has changed in this section of the BOD, so any will probably do.
Scriptures: Psalm 8
Scriptures: Psalm 8, John 16: 12-15
As Sara Webb Phillips says on the back of your bulletin, this is an unusual Sunday in the life of the church because our Christian calendar celebration focuses on a doctrine of the church rather than an event in Scripture. I thought this would usher in a good opportunity for our church to explore the traditional doctrines of the church together this summer at a Thursday evening study—and I would invite you to participate in that.
In the Psalm today, we heard the poet’s amazement that the same God who created the stars and the mountains is also “mindful” of humans. Many of us have probably had this experience before, standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon, in the shadow of a large mountain, gazing up at the expanse of space,—there is a sense of smallness that we sometimes feel, a sense of insignificance. Yet, the Psalmist expresses the joy of one who is known intimately, ultimately, by God.
How can we have a relationship with one who created the heavens and the earth and who is mindful of everything in the universe? It seems too bold to ask for the attention of such a God, yet we believe in a God who takes the most pleasure in having a relationship with us. Perhaps this is because at the very heart of God is a relationship between the three-in-one. God is at the most basic a mystery of 3. God is not the creator of Jesus and the Holy Spirit, God is most basically a relationship between Father, Son, and Spirit. God is most fundamentally a dynamic outpouring of creativity, redemption, and sanctification.
Sara Phillips says, “The doctrine of the Trinity is how the early Chritians named their central conviction that the way God forms us, relates to us, saves us, and moves in us is not different from the way God is in God’s very being.” There was a heresy in the 3rd century church called Saballianism which basically stated that there are no personal relationships between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. The only distinguishing relationships were between God and man.
Saballianism, or Modalism, said that the Trinity was not three Persons in one God, but three functional relationships with man. The Father is the mode that created man; the Son is the mode that redeemed man; the Holy Spirit is the mode that sanctified man. The reason this offended the orthodox church was because it turned a real, functioning relationship at the heart of the Godhead into a theological construction that depended on humankind’s presence and relationship with God.
This relationship at the core of God is described in the classical doctrines of the Trinity as “one being, who exists simulaneously and eternally, as a ‘mutual indwelling’ of three persons.” Isn’t that a beautiful term? “Mutual Indwelling:” in my mind I see a beautiful endless spiral.
John of Damascus, in the 8th century, used the Greek term περιχώρησις (perichoresis, literally: circuition, going around, or more precisely for John of Damascus' meaning envelopment) to signify this, in his explanation of the text, "I am in my Father, and my Father is in me."
In Eastern Christianity, perichoresis is associated with unification with the Godhead upon sanctification. Redeemed humanity is drawn into the circulation of divine love and thus participates in the coinherence of the Divine Persons, referring to texts such as John 17:20-23.26: "I pray not only for them, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me. And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one, that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me... that the love with which you loved me may be in them and I in them."
Interestingly enough, the if you replace the “omega” with its long O sound in the word “perichoresis,” with an omicron, a short “o” sound, you have the Greek word for “dance.” Isn’t that beautiful? God’s very being is not very far removed from the idea of an endless, mutual dance, and God is inviting us to be a part of the dance.
As Paul locates the Spirit’s power in “fellowship” in 2nd Corinthians 13:13, we are given the power to participate in the enveloping dance of the Trinity by the power of the Holy Spirit. Contrary to the popular way of speaking about entering this dance, we don’t “get the Spirit.” Because the actions of the Trinity are completely free and completely grace-full, it would be more apporpriate to say that the Spirit “gets us!”
That is why we call this sacred meal that we partake in “communion.” God communicates an inward and spiritual truth to us in an outward and physical sign. In the elements of communion—in this simple bread and juice, God presents Himself to us fully and mysteriously. This is a gift of grace, not merit. This is why we do not put a fence around the elements—this is why we open the table to everyone. Gifts of grace are freely offered. It is as if the three in one Godhead offers us two hands to join in the dance of mutual indwelling. If we take this bread and juice and fail to let it work in us, it is like we are stepping all over the toes of the persons of the Trinity.
To keep in time with the dance, to know which steps to take, we need only look to Christ to guide us. Jesus Christ is the incarnation of this mysterious God, and we can see how to live and love and be in fellowship with one another by watching how our savior behaved in the world. Perhaps this is what Paul meant when he wrote, “let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus (Phil 2:5). As Mark Ralls, writes in a recent issue of Christian Century, “the peculiar thing about Jesus’ mind was that it was always directed toward others.
Jesus was divine mindfulness incarnate. He noticed those who were forgotten. He cherished those who were despised. In the midst of a crowd pulsing all around him, Jesus noticed the touch of a despairing woman who merely grrazed the “hem of his garment” On the cross, Jesus noticed the penitent thief beside him making room in his heart for God. In lesser ways, we are called to be mindful of one another. This is our choice to make again and again. This is how we keep rhythm with the Holy Trinity who dances along with us.
So, we come to the table in order to sustain this dance. We come to the table so that we may internalize God’s mindfulness of us. We come to this table for all of those who cannot or will not, and in turning our attention toward them, we reflect God’s mindfulness into the world. By participating in this sacred communion with God, we enter the fellowship of God’s presence and are in turn propelled to make fellowship with our neighbors.
As Jurgen Moltmann, the premier theologian of our time, wrote “God is experienced not merely individually, in the encounter of the individual, solitary soul with itself. He is exerienced socially too, in the encounter with others….In experiencing the affection of others we experience God. In being loved we sense the nearness of God, in hate we feel God’s remoteness. In love we are seized by the creative energies of the divine Spirit, in hate we are consumed by the poisons of death….From one another, with one another, and in one another human beings discover that mirror of the Godhead which is called imago Dei—the image of God in whom we are created, and which is in actual truth imago Trinitatis.
So, let us come to the table, let us feast together in a reflection of this wonderful God who loves without distraction. Let us eat this bread and drink this cup and thereby stay in rhythm with the Three in One.
Scriptures: Psalm 8, John 16: 12-15As Sara Webb Phillips says on the back of your bulletin, this is an unusual Sunday in the life of the church because our Christian calendar celebration focuses on a doctrine of the church rather than an event in Scripture. I thought this would usher in a good opportunity for our church to explore the traditional doctrines of the church together this summer at a Thursday evening study—and I would invite you to participate in that.
In the Psalm today, we heard the poet’s amazement that the same God who created the stars and the mountains is also “mindful” of humans. Many of us have probably had this experience before, standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon, in the shadow of a large mountain, gazing up at the expanse of space,—there is a sense of smallness that we sometimes feel, a sense of insignificance. Yet, the Psalmist expresses the joy of one who is known intimately, ultimately, by God.
How can we have a relationship with one who created the heavens and the earth and who is mindful of everything in the universe? It seems too bold to ask for the attention of such a God, yet we believe in a God who takes the most pleasure in having a relationship with us. Perhaps this is because at the very heart of God is a relationship between the three-in-one. God is at the most basic a mystery of 3. God is not the creator of Jesus and the Holy Spirit, God is most basically a relationship between Father, Son, and Spirit. God is most fundamentally a dynamic outpouring of creativity, redemption, and sanctification.
Sara Phillips says, “The doctrine of the Trinity is how the early Chritians named their central conviction that the way God forms us, relates to us, saves us, and moves in us is not different from the way God is in God’s very being.” There was a heresy in the 3rd century church called Saballianism which basically stated that there are no personal relationships between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. The only distinguishing relationships were between God and man.
Saballianism, or Modalism, said that the Trinity was not three Persons in one God, but three functional relationships with man. The Father is the mode that created man; the Son is the mode that redeemed man; the Holy Spirit is the mode that sanctified man. The reason this offended the orthodox church was because it turned a real, functioning relationship at the heart of the Godhead into a theological construction that depended on humankind’s presence and relationship with God.
This relationship at the core of God is described in the classical doctrines of the Trinity as “one being, who exists simulaneously and eternally, as a ‘mutual indwelling’ of three persons.” Isn’t that a beautiful term? “Mutual Indwelling:” in my mind I see a beautiful endless spiral.
John of Damascus, in the 8th century, used the Greek term περιχώρησις (perichoresis, literally: circuition, going around, or more precisely for John of Damascus' meaning envelopment) to signify this, in his explanation of the text, "I am in my Father, and my Father is in me."
In Eastern Christianity, perichoresis is associated with unification with the Godhead upon sanctification. Redeemed humanity is drawn into the circulation of divine love and thus participates in the coinherence of the Divine Persons, referring to texts such as John 17:20-23.26: "I pray not only for them, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me. And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one, that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me... that the love with which you loved me may be in them and I in them."
Interestingly enough, the if you replace the “omega” with its long O sound in the word “perichoresis,” with an omicron, a short “o” sound, you have the Greek word for “dance.” Isn’t that beautiful? God’s very being is not very far removed from the idea of an endless, mutual dance, and God is inviting us to be a part of the dance.
As Paul locates the Spirit’s power in “fellowship” in 2nd Corinthians 13:13, we are given the power to participate in the enveloping dance of the Trinity by the power of the Holy Spirit. Contrary to the popular way of speaking about entering this dance, we don’t “get the Spirit.” Because the actions of the Trinity are completely free and completely grace-full, it would be more apporpriate to say that the Spirit “gets us!”
That is why we call this sacred meal that we partake in “communion.” God communicates an inward and spiritual truth to us in an outward and physical sign. In the elements of communion—in this simple bread and juice, God presents Himself to us fully and mysteriously. This is a gift of grace, not merit. This is why we do not put a fence around the elements—this is why we open the table to everyone. Gifts of grace are freely offered. It is as if the three in one Godhead offers us two hands to join in the dance of mutual indwelling. If we take this bread and juice and fail to let it work in us, it is like we are stepping all over the toes of the persons of the Trinity.
To keep in time with the dance, to know which steps to take, we need only look to Christ to guide us. Jesus Christ is the incarnation of this mysterious God, and we can see how to live and love and be in fellowship with one another by watching how our savior behaved in the world. Perhaps this is what Paul meant when he wrote, “let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus (Phil 2:5). As Mark Ralls, writes in a recent issue of Christian Century, “the peculiar thing about Jesus’ mind was that it was always directed toward others.
Jesus was divine mindfulness incarnate. He noticed those who were forgotten. He cherished those who were despised. In the midst of a crowd pulsing all around him, Jesus noticed the touch of a despairing woman who merely grrazed the “hem of his garment” On the cross, Jesus noticed the penitent thief beside him making room in his heart for God. In lesser ways, we are called to be mindful of one another. This is our choice to make again and again. This is how we keep rhythm with the Holy Trinity who dances along with us.
So, we come to the table in order to sustain this dance. We come to the table so that we may internalize God’s mindfulness of us. We come to this table for all of those who cannot or will not, and in turning our attention toward them, we reflect God’s mindfulness into the world. By participating in this sacred communion with God, we enter the fellowship of God’s presence and are in turn propelled to make fellowship with our neighbors.
As Jurgen Moltmann, the premier theologian of our time, wrote “God is experienced not merely individually, in the encounter of the individual, solitary soul with itself. He is exerienced socially too, in the encounter with others….In experiencing the affection of others we experience God. In being loved we sense the nearness of God, in hate we feel God’s remoteness. In love we are seized by the creative energies of the divine Spirit, in hate we are consumed by the poisons of death….From one another, with one another, and in one another human beings discover that mirror of the Godhead which is called imago Dei—the image of God in whom we are created, and which is in actual truth imago Trinitatis.
So, let us come to the table, let us feast together in a reflection of this wonderful God who loves without distraction. Let us eat this bread and drink this cup and thereby stay in rhythm with the Three in One.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Ascension Day Sermon: Jesus Walks
Sermon Texts
Ephesians 1: 15-23
Ephesians 1: 15-23
What do we make of this strange testimony? In our day and age, the idea of our savior flying away in the sky strikes us as somewhat fanciful. How do we envision the scene—does Jesus peek over the edge of the cloud as he is whisked away like Alladin on a magic carpet? Does he raise up one fist and take off like Superman? The ascension is part of the creeds of the early church. What is important about this anyway?
A closer look at our scriptural tradition shows us that it is customary for God’s most important prophets to be lifted up from the Earth rather than perish and placed in the ground. Elijah and Enoch are said to have ascended into heaven. Elijah was carried away on a fiery chariot. The famous Rabbi of Alexandria, Philo, who was a contemporary of the Gospel writers and a favorite theologian among early Christians, wrote that Moses also ascended. John’s gospel speaks of Jesus being “lifted up,” as an implication of Christ’s death on the cross, lifted up in agony, an implication of Christ’s resurrection, lifted up in mystery, and Christ’s ascension—lifted up in glory. There is clearly more to this story than what is literally written.
The cloud that takes Jesus away is an allusion to the Shekinah—the presence of God formed in a cloud that can be found in the story of Moses receiving the law, and the presence of God in the tabernacle on route to the promised land, among others. In fact, Luke’s own gospel reports the descent of a cloud that covered the mountain at the Transfiguration of Jesus. And at this event, Moses and Elijah—both of whom ascended according to Jewish legend, are speaking with Jesus at that moment about what? Luke 9:30 tells us that they were speaking of “his departure, that would soon occur in Jerusalem.” All of these elements are linked together by the symbols chosen by Luke to report this story.
Ascension of Jesus/ Neo at the end of the Matrix. The Matrix is about Neo’s Mastery of the world that he used to know as reality. Through the help of others, Neo sees the world for what it is—a complex computer program that occupies the minds of every human on earth while machines use the energy from their bodies to power their society. Over the course of the movie, Neo is rescued from the Matrix by a group of revolutionaries, then learns to voluntarily enter the Matrix and learns to manipulate it. At the end of the film, there is nothing—not even death in the Matrix, which confines Neo to the laws of the world. The last scene of the film shows Neo taunting the rulers of the Matrix and then flying off—an illustration of his newly found power.
Ephesians tells us that our Christ was able to achieve a similar mastery of the world. “The world is under his feet, and he is above all power of the world.”
Are we to gaze up at the sky and imagine similar glory for ourselves? The two men in the sky tell us no—we are to wait for the power to come from on high down to us. How did Jesus master the world? The Holy Spirit came on him in the form of a dove at his baptism—he expressed this mastery in a no-holds barred Love for the entire Creation. He then said that he had come to baptize the world by fire. Next week at Pentecost we will talk more about this fire. It is a fire of Love. He Mastered the World by loving it. He conquered his enemies by loving them. This is not mere “fluffy teddy bear love” this love is called dynamis. Greek for tangible, visible power. Fire in souls. Fire of love so tangible and real it can be seen and heard by witnesses.
And so—instead of standing there gaping at the sky—the utter mysteriousness of our Lord should not inspire us to be navel-gazers on an individual hunt for enlightenment—We are to manifest this power in community. Paul commends his followers in Ephesus for their enlightened hearts—that they have seen Christ in his glory. And what is the most glorious aspect of Christ? What is it you see on Dali’s painting of the ascension?
His feet! Isaiah 52: 7 says, How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, "Your God reigns."
Feet are important to God. There are many references to feet in the Bible. In fact, a search of the word feet in the Bible turns up 229 results. Foot turns up 100 more results. When Moses met God at the burning bush—God instructed Moses to take off his shoes—that he was standing on Holy Ground—God wanted God’s creation touching God’s creation. His bare feet and the solid ground.
There’s the story of the priests crossing the Jordan on the way to the promised lands. The text says that everywhere the priests lay their feet, the water dried up and the people crossed on dry land. God told the people to take 12 stones that the priests feet had touched and make them into altars. One for each tribe. The gospels tell us that on the night of Jesus’ betrayal. The last and most important thing he did for his disciples was to wash their feet. A woman anointed Jesus’ feet and then washed them with her hair—when the disciples objected, Jesus praised her.
Yes, feet are most important in the Bible—the spot where the ascension is said to have taken place is marked by a rock with what is reputed to be Jesus’ footprint in a rock. I bet almost every person has the anonymous poem “Footprints in the Sand” committed to heart. We long for a footprint of Jesus—one to show us where he’s been. One to show us where we’re going.
The disciples ask for an answer—is it time for the Kingdom to Come—are we going to be raised up as well? Jesus doesn’t give them that information—and he forbids speculation by saying It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.
It seems that Jesus wants us to pay more attention to the footprints he left all over the Gospels. Yes, Christ’s feet take him to some surprising places—and he asks us to follow.
We have not yet referred to what is perhaps the most striking single phrase in the lessons for today, however. We read it in the very first verse of the book of Acts! That opening verse is startling. It must be read with the “enlightened eyes” to which Paul refers in the epistle. “In the first book, O Theophilus, I have dealt with all that Jesus began to do and teach . . .” Now there is a verse to bring a discerning reader up short!
Did Jesus not complete everything he was sent to do? Is this not the very meaning we have just suggested that is contained in his ascension? He has finished his work! He, himself, cried out, “It is finished” when he died on the cross. What more is there to do?
Yet Luke speaks of that which “Jesus began to do and teach . . . “ Has he made a mistake in his reporting . . . or has he seen more deeply into that of which he is writing than we are prone to see at first reading? Is he not speaking of that which Paul wrote to the Ephesians: “[He is] head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all”? There is every indication that Luke, beginning his account of the “Acts of the Apostles” (also properly called the “Acts of the Holy Spirit”) is telling his readers from the start of this second volume that “the body of Christ” is now hidden within and among and through those who will go forth in his name, bearing that Good News of Salvation as his “witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”
Meanwhile, we are reminded by the two men in white that “this Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” Between now and then we are to keep in mind that which Jesus, himself, had emphasized in his last words recorded in the Gospel according to St. Matthew: “Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matt. 28:20b) In short, although he is gone from any one place in this world he now becomes available to his people everywhere and anywhere. His presence is not to be sought here or there, in the sacred places or in the secular places, in the expected places or the unexpected places. He is not to be identified by location any more, but he is present everywhere at once, to every person as though he / she were the only person in all of creation and yet to all of creation as though no place were without him.
Where can we look to guide us? Sometimes the footprints of a ubiquitous Spirit are hard to determine. It is easy to hear about and read about the doings of Jesus, but not as easy to apply in our own lives. Perhaps one place to look is at more recent footprints.
We should watch the feet of those in this congregation now as well. We can see the footsteps of Christ guiding them as well. We don’t just come to worship to gaze up at the sky—we come to applaud each other’s efforts to follow the footsteps of Jesus. This is much more efficiently done if we use our mouth to actually reach out and encourage one another when we see our brothers and sisters following Christ. You might have to get out of your comfort zone to make a sincere statement to someone you don’t really feel like you know that well—but our “comfort zone” might actually be another term for “barrier” if you ask me.
So bring the Good News—bring it with the enthusiasm and the passion of our Captain! That is what Christ proclaims right before he ascends to heaven. It is in this moment that his disciples become apostles. Disciples are those who follow Jesus—apostle means “sent.” Those who are sent to spread the good news throughout the land. Paul echoes Isaiah in Romans 10:15—How beautiful are the feet of those who bring Good news!” In short—our feet can look like Jesus’ feet. Our feet can become his feet. We need to keep the tracks fresh so that others may follow! Jesus’ footprints lead us toward Pentecost—the outpouring of the Holy Spirit—and we must set our faces toward that destination!
Amen
A closer look at our scriptural tradition shows us that it is customary for God’s most important prophets to be lifted up from the Earth rather than perish and placed in the ground. Elijah and Enoch are said to have ascended into heaven. Elijah was carried away on a fiery chariot. The famous Rabbi of Alexandria, Philo, who was a contemporary of the Gospel writers and a favorite theologian among early Christians, wrote that Moses also ascended. John’s gospel speaks of Jesus being “lifted up,” as an implication of Christ’s death on the cross, lifted up in agony, an implication of Christ’s resurrection, lifted up in mystery, and Christ’s ascension—lifted up in glory. There is clearly more to this story than what is literally written.
The cloud that takes Jesus away is an allusion to the Shekinah—the presence of God formed in a cloud that can be found in the story of Moses receiving the law, and the presence of God in the tabernacle on route to the promised land, among others. In fact, Luke’s own gospel reports the descent of a cloud that covered the mountain at the Transfiguration of Jesus. And at this event, Moses and Elijah—both of whom ascended according to Jewish legend, are speaking with Jesus at that moment about what? Luke 9:30 tells us that they were speaking of “his departure, that would soon occur in Jerusalem.” All of these elements are linked together by the symbols chosen by Luke to report this story.
Ascension of Jesus/ Neo at the end of the Matrix. The Matrix is about Neo’s Mastery of the world that he used to know as reality. Through the help of others, Neo sees the world for what it is—a complex computer program that occupies the minds of every human on earth while machines use the energy from their bodies to power their society. Over the course of the movie, Neo is rescued from the Matrix by a group of revolutionaries, then learns to voluntarily enter the Matrix and learns to manipulate it. At the end of the film, there is nothing—not even death in the Matrix, which confines Neo to the laws of the world. The last scene of the film shows Neo taunting the rulers of the Matrix and then flying off—an illustration of his newly found power.
Ephesians tells us that our Christ was able to achieve a similar mastery of the world. “The world is under his feet, and he is above all power of the world.”
Are we to gaze up at the sky and imagine similar glory for ourselves? The two men in the sky tell us no—we are to wait for the power to come from on high down to us. How did Jesus master the world? The Holy Spirit came on him in the form of a dove at his baptism—he expressed this mastery in a no-holds barred Love for the entire Creation. He then said that he had come to baptize the world by fire. Next week at Pentecost we will talk more about this fire. It is a fire of Love. He Mastered the World by loving it. He conquered his enemies by loving them. This is not mere “fluffy teddy bear love” this love is called dynamis. Greek for tangible, visible power. Fire in souls. Fire of love so tangible and real it can be seen and heard by witnesses.
And so—instead of standing there gaping at the sky—the utter mysteriousness of our Lord should not inspire us to be navel-gazers on an individual hunt for enlightenment—We are to manifest this power in community. Paul commends his followers in Ephesus for their enlightened hearts—that they have seen Christ in his glory. And what is the most glorious aspect of Christ? What is it you see on Dali’s painting of the ascension?
His feet! Isaiah 52: 7 says, How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, "Your God reigns."Feet are important to God. There are many references to feet in the Bible. In fact, a search of the word feet in the Bible turns up 229 results. Foot turns up 100 more results. When Moses met God at the burning bush—God instructed Moses to take off his shoes—that he was standing on Holy Ground—God wanted God’s creation touching God’s creation. His bare feet and the solid ground.
There’s the story of the priests crossing the Jordan on the way to the promised lands. The text says that everywhere the priests lay their feet, the water dried up and the people crossed on dry land. God told the people to take 12 stones that the priests feet had touched and make them into altars. One for each tribe. The gospels tell us that on the night of Jesus’ betrayal. The last and most important thing he did for his disciples was to wash their feet. A woman anointed Jesus’ feet and then washed them with her hair—when the disciples objected, Jesus praised her.
Yes, feet are most important in the Bible—the spot where the ascension is said to have taken place is marked by a rock with what is reputed to be Jesus’ footprint in a rock. I bet almost every person has the anonymous poem “Footprints in the Sand” committed to heart. We long for a footprint of Jesus—one to show us where he’s been. One to show us where we’re going.
The disciples ask for an answer—is it time for the Kingdom to Come—are we going to be raised up as well? Jesus doesn’t give them that information—and he forbids speculation by saying It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.
It seems that Jesus wants us to pay more attention to the footprints he left all over the Gospels. Yes, Christ’s feet take him to some surprising places—and he asks us to follow.
We have not yet referred to what is perhaps the most striking single phrase in the lessons for today, however. We read it in the very first verse of the book of Acts! That opening verse is startling. It must be read with the “enlightened eyes” to which Paul refers in the epistle. “In the first book, O Theophilus, I have dealt with all that Jesus began to do and teach . . .” Now there is a verse to bring a discerning reader up short!
Did Jesus not complete everything he was sent to do? Is this not the very meaning we have just suggested that is contained in his ascension? He has finished his work! He, himself, cried out, “It is finished” when he died on the cross. What more is there to do?
Yet Luke speaks of that which “Jesus began to do and teach . . . “ Has he made a mistake in his reporting . . . or has he seen more deeply into that of which he is writing than we are prone to see at first reading? Is he not speaking of that which Paul wrote to the Ephesians: “[He is] head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all”? There is every indication that Luke, beginning his account of the “Acts of the Apostles” (also properly called the “Acts of the Holy Spirit”) is telling his readers from the start of this second volume that “the body of Christ” is now hidden within and among and through those who will go forth in his name, bearing that Good News of Salvation as his “witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”
Meanwhile, we are reminded by the two men in white that “this Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” Between now and then we are to keep in mind that which Jesus, himself, had emphasized in his last words recorded in the Gospel according to St. Matthew: “Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matt. 28:20b) In short, although he is gone from any one place in this world he now becomes available to his people everywhere and anywhere. His presence is not to be sought here or there, in the sacred places or in the secular places, in the expected places or the unexpected places. He is not to be identified by location any more, but he is present everywhere at once, to every person as though he / she were the only person in all of creation and yet to all of creation as though no place were without him.
Where can we look to guide us? Sometimes the footprints of a ubiquitous Spirit are hard to determine. It is easy to hear about and read about the doings of Jesus, but not as easy to apply in our own lives. Perhaps one place to look is at more recent footprints.
We should watch the feet of those in this congregation now as well. We can see the footsteps of Christ guiding them as well. We don’t just come to worship to gaze up at the sky—we come to applaud each other’s efforts to follow the footsteps of Jesus. This is much more efficiently done if we use our mouth to actually reach out and encourage one another when we see our brothers and sisters following Christ. You might have to get out of your comfort zone to make a sincere statement to someone you don’t really feel like you know that well—but our “comfort zone” might actually be another term for “barrier” if you ask me.
So bring the Good News—bring it with the enthusiasm and the passion of our Captain! That is what Christ proclaims right before he ascends to heaven. It is in this moment that his disciples become apostles. Disciples are those who follow Jesus—apostle means “sent.” Those who are sent to spread the good news throughout the land. Paul echoes Isaiah in Romans 10:15—How beautiful are the feet of those who bring Good news!” In short—our feet can look like Jesus’ feet. Our feet can become his feet. We need to keep the tracks fresh so that others may follow! Jesus’ footprints lead us toward Pentecost—the outpouring of the Holy Spirit—and we must set our faces toward that destination!
Amen
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Good Article for your Sunday afternoon....or whenever
The Jesus Memeby Leonard Sweet
Christians are not a perfect people. The church isn’t a perfect institution. But we worship a perfect Savior.
What, then, is our problem?
Why has tactlessness and tackiness become the Christian mark? Why has the Christian faith become so graceless, artless, joyless?
At a party, my dinner companion asked me why Christians are the ones who like to hover around the Tree of Knowledge, baiting the serpent and battling each other, instead of playing in the garden?
Why are so many people Christians today only because they found Jesus before they found other Christians?
I believe we’ve lost a down-to-earth spirituality. Over a 2,000-year period, we’ve jerked and tugged the Christian faith out of its original soil. Henry David Thoreau warned that words—when derived properly—come with the earth still clinging to their roots. But the earth has been shaken and scrubbed off the roots of our faith to the point where much of our fruit has become juiceless—as dry and sour as an old lemon.
The church may clutch Jesus to its side, but it no longer clutches Jesus to its inside. The church has embalmed Jesus in rules, codes, canonicities, and traditions that have everything to do with the church saving itself, and nothing to do with Jesus saving the world. As a friend put it, "If God so loved the world, why can’t the church?"
That’s why I’m weaning myself from talking about the church. I don’t even like to talk about Christianity. I now talk about the Jesus Meme.
What is a "meme"? It is to the social world what a gene is to the biological world. (It rhymes with "gene" as well.) It’s a design code that shapes and supports the fabric that a social organism weaves around itself—and a meme’s impact on an organism is either catalytic or cataclysmic.
With that in mind, I’m more and more convinced that some recombinant engineering needs to be done on Christianity’s memetic code to return it to its original form—the Jesus Meme.
Where have we departed from the Jesus Meme?
Christianity today is largely object based and church focused while the Jesus Meme is relation based and world focused. We aren’t being what we were created to be.
We don’t need more time off to meditate and medicate, to conference, to "re-imagine." That’s like a doctor prescribing a summer on the French Riviera for a bankrupt banker. We need a fresh outpouring of the Spirit that created the church in the first place. We need to replant the faith in the rich, biblical soil from which it’s been wrenched.
To that end, I’m now studying and lecturing on the three most definitive father-son stories in the Bible: Abraham and Isaac in the Old Testament, the Prodigal Son in the New Testament, and the God-the-Father, God-the-Son story throughout Scripture.
All three stories answer the same questions: Why did God create us? What does God want from us? What is the essence of "faith"?
The summary of the Hebrew answer: "To do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God" (Micah 6:8); the summary of the Jesus answer: "For God so loved the world..." (John 3:16).
The consistency between the Old and New Testaments is startling:
Faith is fundamentally a set of relationships—with God, with neighbor, with world, with creation. Faith in God—as well as being an encounter with the divine—is a relationship involving all of you and all that is around you.
Relationship is the essence of the Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, "God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity." The Trinity doesn’t deal with time, space, or matter—it deals with relationships.
Why did God create us? For relationships. God is a God of relationships. Reality can be experienced only through relationships. Hence the Hebrew concept of covenant. Hence the Jesus concept of salvation.
This is one of the things that distinguishes the Judeo-Christian tradition from other religions: God calls us into a relationship—it’s more than a wisdom tradition or a moral system or a path leading to higher and higher states of existence.
The essence of the Christian faith is as simple and complex as what physicists call a "super-string": God loves you and desires a relationship with you through Jesus, God’s only begotten Son. What’s true in physics is even more true in theology: The importance lies not in the things themselves, but in the relationships between things. Biblical thinking is less about principles and places than about patterns and relationships. Principles and places play supporting roles as nouns (e.g., "God is love.") But the main story is about patterns and relationships as verbs ("God so loved..."; "God loves you.")
What makes us human? What makes humans created "in the image of God?" In Imaging Christ: Politics, Art, Spirituality (The Villanova University Press, 1991), theologian Joseph Sittler bases his conclusion that the imago Dei "specifies a relation." Because for humans "there is no ontology of isolated entities, of instances, of forms, of processes, whether we are reflecting about God or man or society or the cosmos. The only adequate ontological structure we may utilize for thinking things Christianly is an ontology of community, communion, ecology—and all three words point conceptually to thought of a common kind. ’Being itself’ may be a relation, not an entitative thing."
COG agrees with Sittler. And what is COG? It’s the name of the first robot that emerged from Embodied AI (Artificial Intelligence). Embodied AI differs from Pure AI in that the former says that giving a machine intelligence means giving it a body that can enter into relationships. Ann Foerst—the theological advisor of the COG project at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the director of its God and Computers Project—argues that "our humanity does not come from our brains or our body but from our complex interactions with the community. We are human because we must deal with other humans and the rest of creation" (Forbes ASAP, October 4, 1999).
So, the Jesus Meme is more than packets of theological information filled with objective rules or objectified rituals. The Jesus Meme is a life-or-death relationship with God through faith practices, stories, songs, beliefs, walks, ongoing traditions, upcoming technologies, and the connectedness of a social brain to the very Spirit of Christ. (The rediscovery of a relation-based spirituality is crucial to ministry with postmoderns—George Barna isn’t the only one arguing that to evangelize today’s teens we need to start by building relationships!
Which is why faith is about more than beliefs to be learned, it’s about bonds to be lived. Faith is more than holding the "right" beliefs, it’s holding the "right" (i.e., "the least of these") hands. As Christians, we’re judged not on the basis of how "right" we’ve gotten our beliefs but how well we’ve loved. The purpose of Christianity is to help people come to faith—in other words, to establish relationships with God.
And faith is accepting Jesus’ invitation to follow him.
Christian revelation is not a subjective experience. But Christian revelation is a person named Jesus who calls us into a graced relationship through faith. Each person receives a call from God through Christ. And what is the nature of that call?
Follow me.
The power of these two words will never be nuclear until they are no longer unclear. Jesus did not say "follow this teaching" or "follow this idea" or "follow this commandment" or "follow this ritual life" but "follow me" (Mark 2:14; Luke 5:27; Matthew 9:9).
Follow me.
As Jesus elaborates on what "follow me" means, he reveals that it consists less in knowing this or believing that than losing oneself, denying oneself, bearing one’s cross, embracing the other, and following after him. Faith in Jesus isn’t intellectual assent to a set of beliefs but a relationship lived.
What is evangelism then? It’s inviting others into a relationship with God so that the Holy Spirit can make Christ come alive and live in them, so they can live in God’s fullness and providence. Evangelism isn’t leading people to information about Jesus or to right beliefs about Jesus—it’s leading people to relationships with Jesus.
The Jesus Meme is not a possession you wield, but a life you yield.
Follow me.
Leonard Sweet is the E. Stanley Jones Professor of Evangelism at the Drew University School of Theology in Madison, New Jersey, and author of Soul Tsunami: Sink or Swim in the New Millennium Culture (Zondervan), AquaChurch: Essential Leadership Arts for Piloting Your Church in Today's Fluid Culture (Group), and A Cup of Coffee at the Soul Cafe (Broadman & Holman).
Christians are not a perfect people. The church isn’t a perfect institution. But we worship a perfect Savior.
What, then, is our problem?
Why has tactlessness and tackiness become the Christian mark? Why has the Christian faith become so graceless, artless, joyless?
At a party, my dinner companion asked me why Christians are the ones who like to hover around the Tree of Knowledge, baiting the serpent and battling each other, instead of playing in the garden?
Why are so many people Christians today only because they found Jesus before they found other Christians?
I believe we’ve lost a down-to-earth spirituality. Over a 2,000-year period, we’ve jerked and tugged the Christian faith out of its original soil. Henry David Thoreau warned that words—when derived properly—come with the earth still clinging to their roots. But the earth has been shaken and scrubbed off the roots of our faith to the point where much of our fruit has become juiceless—as dry and sour as an old lemon.
The church may clutch Jesus to its side, but it no longer clutches Jesus to its inside. The church has embalmed Jesus in rules, codes, canonicities, and traditions that have everything to do with the church saving itself, and nothing to do with Jesus saving the world. As a friend put it, "If God so loved the world, why can’t the church?"
That’s why I’m weaning myself from talking about the church. I don’t even like to talk about Christianity. I now talk about the Jesus Meme.
What is a "meme"? It is to the social world what a gene is to the biological world. (It rhymes with "gene" as well.) It’s a design code that shapes and supports the fabric that a social organism weaves around itself—and a meme’s impact on an organism is either catalytic or cataclysmic.
With that in mind, I’m more and more convinced that some recombinant engineering needs to be done on Christianity’s memetic code to return it to its original form—the Jesus Meme.
Where have we departed from the Jesus Meme?
Christianity today is largely object based and church focused while the Jesus Meme is relation based and world focused. We aren’t being what we were created to be.
We don’t need more time off to meditate and medicate, to conference, to "re-imagine." That’s like a doctor prescribing a summer on the French Riviera for a bankrupt banker. We need a fresh outpouring of the Spirit that created the church in the first place. We need to replant the faith in the rich, biblical soil from which it’s been wrenched.
To that end, I’m now studying and lecturing on the three most definitive father-son stories in the Bible: Abraham and Isaac in the Old Testament, the Prodigal Son in the New Testament, and the God-the-Father, God-the-Son story throughout Scripture.
All three stories answer the same questions: Why did God create us? What does God want from us? What is the essence of "faith"?
The summary of the Hebrew answer: "To do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God" (Micah 6:8); the summary of the Jesus answer: "For God so loved the world..." (John 3:16).
The consistency between the Old and New Testaments is startling:
Faith is fundamentally a set of relationships—with God, with neighbor, with world, with creation. Faith in God—as well as being an encounter with the divine—is a relationship involving all of you and all that is around you.
Relationship is the essence of the Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, "God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity." The Trinity doesn’t deal with time, space, or matter—it deals with relationships.
Why did God create us? For relationships. God is a God of relationships. Reality can be experienced only through relationships. Hence the Hebrew concept of covenant. Hence the Jesus concept of salvation.
This is one of the things that distinguishes the Judeo-Christian tradition from other religions: God calls us into a relationship—it’s more than a wisdom tradition or a moral system or a path leading to higher and higher states of existence.
The essence of the Christian faith is as simple and complex as what physicists call a "super-string": God loves you and desires a relationship with you through Jesus, God’s only begotten Son. What’s true in physics is even more true in theology: The importance lies not in the things themselves, but in the relationships between things. Biblical thinking is less about principles and places than about patterns and relationships. Principles and places play supporting roles as nouns (e.g., "God is love.") But the main story is about patterns and relationships as verbs ("God so loved..."; "God loves you.")
What makes us human? What makes humans created "in the image of God?" In Imaging Christ: Politics, Art, Spirituality (The Villanova University Press, 1991), theologian Joseph Sittler bases his conclusion that the imago Dei "specifies a relation." Because for humans "there is no ontology of isolated entities, of instances, of forms, of processes, whether we are reflecting about God or man or society or the cosmos. The only adequate ontological structure we may utilize for thinking things Christianly is an ontology of community, communion, ecology—and all three words point conceptually to thought of a common kind. ’Being itself’ may be a relation, not an entitative thing."
COG agrees with Sittler. And what is COG? It’s the name of the first robot that emerged from Embodied AI (Artificial Intelligence). Embodied AI differs from Pure AI in that the former says that giving a machine intelligence means giving it a body that can enter into relationships. Ann Foerst—the theological advisor of the COG project at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the director of its God and Computers Project—argues that "our humanity does not come from our brains or our body but from our complex interactions with the community. We are human because we must deal with other humans and the rest of creation" (Forbes ASAP, October 4, 1999).
So, the Jesus Meme is more than packets of theological information filled with objective rules or objectified rituals. The Jesus Meme is a life-or-death relationship with God through faith practices, stories, songs, beliefs, walks, ongoing traditions, upcoming technologies, and the connectedness of a social brain to the very Spirit of Christ. (The rediscovery of a relation-based spirituality is crucial to ministry with postmoderns—George Barna isn’t the only one arguing that to evangelize today’s teens we need to start by building relationships!
Which is why faith is about more than beliefs to be learned, it’s about bonds to be lived. Faith is more than holding the "right" beliefs, it’s holding the "right" (i.e., "the least of these") hands. As Christians, we’re judged not on the basis of how "right" we’ve gotten our beliefs but how well we’ve loved. The purpose of Christianity is to help people come to faith—in other words, to establish relationships with God.
And faith is accepting Jesus’ invitation to follow him.
Christian revelation is not a subjective experience. But Christian revelation is a person named Jesus who calls us into a graced relationship through faith. Each person receives a call from God through Christ. And what is the nature of that call?
Follow me.
The power of these two words will never be nuclear until they are no longer unclear. Jesus did not say "follow this teaching" or "follow this idea" or "follow this commandment" or "follow this ritual life" but "follow me" (Mark 2:14; Luke 5:27; Matthew 9:9).
Follow me.
As Jesus elaborates on what "follow me" means, he reveals that it consists less in knowing this or believing that than losing oneself, denying oneself, bearing one’s cross, embracing the other, and following after him. Faith in Jesus isn’t intellectual assent to a set of beliefs but a relationship lived.
What is evangelism then? It’s inviting others into a relationship with God so that the Holy Spirit can make Christ come alive and live in them, so they can live in God’s fullness and providence. Evangelism isn’t leading people to information about Jesus or to right beliefs about Jesus—it’s leading people to relationships with Jesus.
The Jesus Meme is not a possession you wield, but a life you yield.
Follow me.
Leonard Sweet is the E. Stanley Jones Professor of Evangelism at the Drew University School of Theology in Madison, New Jersey, and author of Soul Tsunami: Sink or Swim in the New Millennium Culture (Zondervan), AquaChurch: Essential Leadership Arts for Piloting Your Church in Today's Fluid Culture (Group), and A Cup of Coffee at the Soul Cafe (Broadman & Holman).
Monday, May 14, 2007
Potato Bake this Sunday
This Sunday you can be a part of our mission trip this summer to San Marcos, TX. How? By bringing family and friends to our potato bake fundraiser after church (noon).
A $5 donation gets you a loaded baked potato, drink, and dessert, and the feeling of worth that comes with contributing to something meaningful.
Tickets are for sale in advance or at the door. See you there!
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Making a Home in Christ
1 John 4: 17-21
John 15: 1-8
As we celebrate the graduation of these five members of our faith family today, as well as all the mothers in the congregation I can think of no better scriptures than the two we’ve heard about “abiding” in Christ. John’s gospel and epistle passages summarize quite well the whole Easter message into two themes that illustrate very important elements of the Christian walk. We must abide in Christ and we will bear much fruit. And, We are commissioned to love one another because God is Love.
First, I’m glad that we are presenting you with Message Bibles today, because I think Eugene Peterson’s translation of the word “abide” really nails what that word means for us. Christ says, make your home in me and I will make my home in you. Christ illustrates this by talking about the relationship of a vine to its branches.
What do you envision when Christ says, “Make your home in me?” or “Live in me?” I have had the privilege of making that parsonage right behind the church my home, and by the way, now our front yard is lush and beautiful! Over this past year, I’ve gotten to the point where I can walk down the hall at the dead of night without turning the lights on. I know how many paces it is down the hall to get to the refrigerator. Just last week, I stumbled into the kitchen at 6:30 in the morning, got out some coffee, and prepared a cup before I think I even really woke up. When we make our home, we become familiar with it inside out.
Christ invites us to make a home in him. If you have ever received a letter from me, you may have noticed that I try to take this to heart when I sign the letter “In Christ.” By signing my letter “In Christ,” I’m letting the person who I’m writing to know that I have found Christ to be a wonderful home—a spacious and warm home.
The mothers whom we also celebrate today are typically responsible for making our homes warm and welcoming. Mothers have a presence that is felt in a home when you enter. If your home is like mine, then the mother of the household doesn’t spend her career inside the home, but for many, it is the mother’s workplace. And you’ve probably heard the saying that my mom has framed in her kitchen, “If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy!”
You graduates may remember not too long ago making forts out of blankets and chairs and whatever else you could find to make a little dwelling place all your own. Did you do this? Perhaps if not, you had a tree house that your own little refuge. Do you remember that feeling you got when you hunkered down in that fort? That feeling of contentment and security? I remember it as a kind of fullness in the belly. A sense of wonder and peace—for whatever reason, when I think of the word “abiding” I think of those little forts I used to make in my room or of the treehouse that a friend and I made out in the field by my house.
Jesus asks us to “Live in him,” to “make a home in him as he makes in us.” However, the result of this close relationship with Jesus—what Peterson describes as “intimate and organic”—the result of this intimate and organic relationship is not just a feeling of security and contentment, it is fruit! Jesus tells us that there is something produced by this relationship—and the more grapes that are produced, the more the Master Gardener will prune us in order to produce even more fruit.
So what is it that the grapes represent? Truth be told, there is probably a lot of applications for this passage—and you may find that a close connection with the vine gives you more power and enthusiasm to express your spiritual gifts, which could be one way to think about fruit. But today I want to focus on something a little more basic that is a fruit of the vine. It is something that the letter of John calls to our attention today. It is simply: Love.
John asks us in the first epistle to Love our brothers and sisters because that love is itself an expression of God. That love is itself an embodiment of our Lord. That love is itself a fruit of the vine.
This part of the letter is a perfect companion to the gospel text—the theme is the same. In verse 15, John says Everyone who confesses that Jesus is God's Son participates continuously in an intimate relationship with God. 16We know it so well, we've embraced it heart and soul, this love that comes from God.God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us.
So, making a home in Christ—abiding in Christ—means letting God live in us. It means taking up permanent residence in a life of love.
And so, those of you who are graduating this week and making plans to move to another city or state, I ask you—are your bags packed? Are you ready to make a new residence in a life of love? The letter tells us that “everyone who confesses that Jesus is God’s son participates continuously in an intimate relationship with God. Are you ready for the deepest relationship you will ever have?
Today is not the first day you have been involved in that residence—in your lives as preparatory and then confirmed members of the church, you have been learning about what is involved in that relationship—you have been gathered into Jesus’ arms as he gathers the children into his lap, as he gathers his sheep into a fold.
Now though, you have the opportunity to live in this “home” with a fuller appreciation for your surroundings. You know more about “the rules of the house,” you know more about the “foundation” of the house, you have heard some of the stories of this old, wonderful dwelling place that we call Jesus. Soon you will have the opportunity to choose to make your spiritual life an important part of your post high school life. As you move into new communities, you must establish your permanent residence in the heart of Christ. This is an address that will never change as long as you practice the faith.
One other thing that John tells us about this dwelling place though. If we make our home in Christ by bearing the love of Christ, we must understand that there is literally no room in the home for fear. The last part of the letter says it best, “This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us, so that we're free of worry on Judgment Day--our standing in the world is identical with Christ's. 18There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life--fear of death, fear of judgment--is one not yet fully formed in love.”
If we put our trust and our lives in Christ, if we make our home in Christ—then fear has to move out! We don’t have the room for that ugly old furniture! Fear of death? We can toss it out! Christ lives here! Fear of judgement? Put it on the bonfire! A fearful life is one not yet fully formed in love—so if we want to live in the continually close, organic, fruit bearing connection with our Maker, Redeemer, and Sanctifier, we’ve got to get rid of those things!
And a failure to love our brothers and sisters? That is usually a product of fear as well. That is a withering vine not connected to the source! The letter tells us that if we can’t love our brothers and sisters, whom we can see—how can we expect to love God, whom we cannot see? This is the tough part, because Christ opens our eyes to see that our brothers and sisters aren’t just the people we feel comfortable with—they’re the poor and the outcasts.
Jesus shows us in his ministry that they are sometimes those people we can’t ever imagine God loving in the first place. So if you find yourself “hating” these people, chances are that you might have sleepwalked right out the front door of your home in Christ and are laying face down in the ditch! Run back into your home as fast as you can—take a shower in the outpouring Holy Spirit and get the mud out of your eyes, because God says we don’t love God unless we can love those around us! Do you hear what I’m saying?Christ gives us an eternal home, and it doesn’t start when we die—it starts the moment we declare our faith and our hope and our love for Jesus Christ. Jesus wants to live in us so deeply that he gives himself to us in the bread and the wine. We ingest these elements of communion, and as we do so, we make room for Christ to move in. We take Christ into our bodies and live lives that are nourished and informed and imprinted by his life for us. When invite Christ to live in us, we abide in Christ.
John 15: 1-8
As we celebrate the graduation of these five members of our faith family today, as well as all the mothers in the congregation I can think of no better scriptures than the two we’ve heard about “abiding” in Christ. John’s gospel and epistle passages summarize quite well the whole Easter message into two themes that illustrate very important elements of the Christian walk. We must abide in Christ and we will bear much fruit. And, We are commissioned to love one another because God is Love.
First, I’m glad that we are presenting you with Message Bibles today, because I think Eugene Peterson’s translation of the word “abide” really nails what that word means for us. Christ says, make your home in me and I will make my home in you. Christ illustrates this by talking about the relationship of a vine to its branches.
What do you envision when Christ says, “Make your home in me?” or “Live in me?” I have had the privilege of making that parsonage right behind the church my home, and by the way, now our front yard is lush and beautiful! Over this past year, I’ve gotten to the point where I can walk down the hall at the dead of night without turning the lights on. I know how many paces it is down the hall to get to the refrigerator. Just last week, I stumbled into the kitchen at 6:30 in the morning, got out some coffee, and prepared a cup before I think I even really woke up. When we make our home, we become familiar with it inside out.
Christ invites us to make a home in him. If you have ever received a letter from me, you may have noticed that I try to take this to heart when I sign the letter “In Christ.” By signing my letter “In Christ,” I’m letting the person who I’m writing to know that I have found Christ to be a wonderful home—a spacious and warm home.
The mothers whom we also celebrate today are typically responsible for making our homes warm and welcoming. Mothers have a presence that is felt in a home when you enter. If your home is like mine, then the mother of the household doesn’t spend her career inside the home, but for many, it is the mother’s workplace. And you’ve probably heard the saying that my mom has framed in her kitchen, “If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy!”
You graduates may remember not too long ago making forts out of blankets and chairs and whatever else you could find to make a little dwelling place all your own. Did you do this? Perhaps if not, you had a tree house that your own little refuge. Do you remember that feeling you got when you hunkered down in that fort? That feeling of contentment and security? I remember it as a kind of fullness in the belly. A sense of wonder and peace—for whatever reason, when I think of the word “abiding” I think of those little forts I used to make in my room or of the treehouse that a friend and I made out in the field by my house.
Jesus asks us to “Live in him,” to “make a home in him as he makes in us.” However, the result of this close relationship with Jesus—what Peterson describes as “intimate and organic”—the result of this intimate and organic relationship is not just a feeling of security and contentment, it is fruit! Jesus tells us that there is something produced by this relationship—and the more grapes that are produced, the more the Master Gardener will prune us in order to produce even more fruit.
So what is it that the grapes represent? Truth be told, there is probably a lot of applications for this passage—and you may find that a close connection with the vine gives you more power and enthusiasm to express your spiritual gifts, which could be one way to think about fruit. But today I want to focus on something a little more basic that is a fruit of the vine. It is something that the letter of John calls to our attention today. It is simply: Love.
John asks us in the first epistle to Love our brothers and sisters because that love is itself an expression of God. That love is itself an embodiment of our Lord. That love is itself a fruit of the vine.
This part of the letter is a perfect companion to the gospel text—the theme is the same. In verse 15, John says Everyone who confesses that Jesus is God's Son participates continuously in an intimate relationship with God. 16We know it so well, we've embraced it heart and soul, this love that comes from God.God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us.
So, making a home in Christ—abiding in Christ—means letting God live in us. It means taking up permanent residence in a life of love.
And so, those of you who are graduating this week and making plans to move to another city or state, I ask you—are your bags packed? Are you ready to make a new residence in a life of love? The letter tells us that “everyone who confesses that Jesus is God’s son participates continuously in an intimate relationship with God. Are you ready for the deepest relationship you will ever have?
Today is not the first day you have been involved in that residence—in your lives as preparatory and then confirmed members of the church, you have been learning about what is involved in that relationship—you have been gathered into Jesus’ arms as he gathers the children into his lap, as he gathers his sheep into a fold.
Now though, you have the opportunity to live in this “home” with a fuller appreciation for your surroundings. You know more about “the rules of the house,” you know more about the “foundation” of the house, you have heard some of the stories of this old, wonderful dwelling place that we call Jesus. Soon you will have the opportunity to choose to make your spiritual life an important part of your post high school life. As you move into new communities, you must establish your permanent residence in the heart of Christ. This is an address that will never change as long as you practice the faith.
One other thing that John tells us about this dwelling place though. If we make our home in Christ by bearing the love of Christ, we must understand that there is literally no room in the home for fear. The last part of the letter says it best, “This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us, so that we're free of worry on Judgment Day--our standing in the world is identical with Christ's. 18There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life--fear of death, fear of judgment--is one not yet fully formed in love.”
If we put our trust and our lives in Christ, if we make our home in Christ—then fear has to move out! We don’t have the room for that ugly old furniture! Fear of death? We can toss it out! Christ lives here! Fear of judgement? Put it on the bonfire! A fearful life is one not yet fully formed in love—so if we want to live in the continually close, organic, fruit bearing connection with our Maker, Redeemer, and Sanctifier, we’ve got to get rid of those things!
And a failure to love our brothers and sisters? That is usually a product of fear as well. That is a withering vine not connected to the source! The letter tells us that if we can’t love our brothers and sisters, whom we can see—how can we expect to love God, whom we cannot see? This is the tough part, because Christ opens our eyes to see that our brothers and sisters aren’t just the people we feel comfortable with—they’re the poor and the outcasts.
Jesus shows us in his ministry that they are sometimes those people we can’t ever imagine God loving in the first place. So if you find yourself “hating” these people, chances are that you might have sleepwalked right out the front door of your home in Christ and are laying face down in the ditch! Run back into your home as fast as you can—take a shower in the outpouring Holy Spirit and get the mud out of your eyes, because God says we don’t love God unless we can love those around us! Do you hear what I’m saying?Christ gives us an eternal home, and it doesn’t start when we die—it starts the moment we declare our faith and our hope and our love for Jesus Christ. Jesus wants to live in us so deeply that he gives himself to us in the bread and the wine. We ingest these elements of communion, and as we do so, we make room for Christ to move in. We take Christ into our bodies and live lives that are nourished and informed and imprinted by his life for us. When invite Christ to live in us, we abide in Christ.
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