Monday, October 28, 2013

Christ Remembers; A Sermon for Reformation Sunday

We celebrated Reformation Sunday at Bethany this weekend.  Here is the audio recording and the manuscript from the sermon I preached based on the selected text from Paul's letter to the Romans. 

Blessings, 
Travis 

Romans 3:19-28
Now we know that whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced, and the whole world may be held accountable to God.  For “no human being will be justified in his sight” by deeds prescribed by the law, for through the law comes the knowledge of sin.

But now, apart from law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed, and is attested by the law and the prophets, the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to show his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; it was to prove at the present time that he himself is righteous and that he justifies the one who has faith in Jesus.

Then what becomes of boasting? It is excluded. By what law? By that of works? No, but by the law of faith.  For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law.



 
About this time 496 years ago, a young German theologian was in the midst of changing the world.  We cannot say for sure, but in the days leading up to October 31, 1517, we can image a young Martin Luther bent over his desk, scratching on a piece of parchment furiously by candle-light, composing his now famous 95 theses.  Through his study and teaching as a professor at the University of Wittenberg, Luther had discovered cracks in the church’s theology, its very understanding of God.  Luther, a monk who had spent years fearing an angry and unmerciful God, had stumbled upon words in scripture that painted a much different picture of God.  Words that pointed to a loving and merciful God.  Words that pointed to the work of Jesus Christ whose death and resurrection is good news for the whole world. 
 

Some of those words that set Luther’s theological imagination on fire are the very same words we just heard in our midst this morning.  I read them not five minutes ago.  Words from the apostle Paul.  While we have no idea of the exact date Paul wrote his letter to the Romans, we can image that almost two thousand years ago, in the very shadow of Christ’s death and resurrection, Paul sat hunched over a piece a parchment, scratching out words furiously by candle-light.  Paul was composing a letter to the followers of Jesus, and those who were curious, in the city of Rome, a community he had never personally visited, but one he hoped to one day meet.  Paul put together a letter, a detailed argument of his understanding of the Gospel of Jesus Christ to persuade the good folks in Rome that his mission of spreading the Gospel was indeed valid and in line with what Jesus himself had come to earth to do.  Paul was writing to a group of people he had never met with the intensity of one defending the most important case of his life.  This is one of the latest letters we have from Paul, and the fullest articulation of his theology of the good news of Jesus Christ.  And right at the heart of it all is the word redemption. 
 

If we look at Paul’s writings closely we’ll see that the argument is flowing towards Paul’s statement about “God’s grace as gift.”  The argument about the righteousness of God hinges on the work of Jesus Christ.  And this work of Jesus Christ is articulated in one word by Paul; redemption.  Now this is a fifteen dollar word.  Though it may not seem like it, this word is one of the more complex ideas of the entire passage.  This word [ἀπολυτρώσεως (apolutroseos)] redemption is a big theological concept for our lives of faith and in the Greek text.  [This word literally means “buying back a slave or captive, making them free by payment of ransom.”  It is a word that develops late in the Greek language and points to an economic arrangement that focuses on slaves and prisoners of war.]  For us today it gets lost in the shuffle of big words and a dense argument.  But for Paul and his audience it opens a window to the rich history of what God has been doing all along.  It is not so much a word as it is a story.  The story of our salvation.     
 

[The simpler form of this fifteen dollar Greek work is λύτρov (lutron) and can mean “to set free,” to “redeem,” or to “rescue.”]  

We have to go all the way back to Abraham to hear it first told.  God promises old, childless Abraham that his children will out number the stars, and there is great joy.  But mixed in that joy is a prophecy that points to 400 years of slavery.  But in that moment, there was already the hope of redemption.  The LORD had spoken.
 

It came to pass that the children of Israel did indeed spend 400 hundred years enslaved in Egypt.  But God heard their cries and remembered the promise.  The people waited.  And in what must have seemed like a moment of apocalypse, God acted.  The sun went dim, the waters turned to blood, and the people fled under the cover of darkness.  They traveled by a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night.  Their redemption came in an outstretched hand and the stilling of waves, sheltering a way through the sea.  God redeemed the children of Israel, and the Exodus would be their hope for salvation forever more.  The people would tell of it to their children, generation to generation, and the Exodus would be the promise of hope to the people.  Even in the exile of Babylon, some clung to this hope.  Isaiah spoke of the one who would come to fulfill the promise, the one would who execute justice and righteousness and redeem the people once and for all.
 

One would indeed come to redeem the whole world.  God would remember the promises made to Abraham and his descendants forever.  God would look with favor upon the lowly.  God would fill the hungry with good things.  Hope would come in the form of a baby, born to Mary.  He would grow to preach and teach and minister.  He would eat with sinners, dine with tax collectors, and stand toe to toe with the religious leaders, calling for life in the face of death.  The powers of the world would lead him to a cross, thinking they would have the last word, that death would silence Jesus, but God remembers the promise.  God brings redemption.  Jesus Christ is our hope, our new life, and our salvation forever more.  Jesus Christ is the one who was and who is and who is to come.  He is our beacon of hope when darkness sets in and the one who guides the church in this world.  And today as we celebrate the reformation, we cling to Christ, and Christ remembers.
 

Christ remembers.  That was the message Paul was trying to communicate.  Tucked away in this passage is a hotly disputed phrase.  For centuries it went unnoticed, but in recent years, scholars are lifting up the phrase “faith in Jesus Christ” as a crucial part of Paul’s argument.  And here the meaning of the Greek is grey to us.  Even the translators of the New Revised Standard Edition of the Bible (NRSV) place the alternate rendering in a footnote.  The phrase in verses 21 and 26 that we heard as “faith of Jesus Christ” can also be translated as “the faith of Jesus Christ.”  And here we have a glimpse of the magnitude of God’s grace in action.  The phrase is ambiguous in Greek, and perhaps Paul meant it that way.  But if we render it as “the faith of Jesus Christ,” we have a image of Jesus as the one who trusted in the history of God’s redeeming acts in the world.  We have a picture of Jesus who has faith in God’s plan for redeeming the whole world through his death and resurrection.  And as people of the resurrection, we know that Jesus had trust in this plan until the very end, when he was hung on a cross for the world to see.  The faithfulness of Jesus Christ is the most important event in this long story of God’s redeeming the world.  This is our story.  We come together to worship and Christ remembers.
 

Christ remembers.  It’s a story we tell when we gather at the font.  We come to these waters, these ordinary waters, clinging to the promise of God.  God promises to be here.  God stirs up these waters, turning them from ordinary to life giving.  In these life-giving waters God gives us a new identity, one that is not bound by sin, but one that is wrapped in the love of Christ.  No longer are we slaves to sin, but set free and given the name children of God. In these waters we cling to Christ and Christ remembers. 
 

Christ Remembers.  This is the story Paul was telling.  This is the story that Luther discovered in the depths of his own darkness.  And I am not sure he would like all the pomp and circumstance of Reformation Sunday.  I think he would fear that we would loose sight of what’s most important; Christ.  There is a painting that hangs behind the alter in the church where Luther was pastor in Wittenberg, Germany.  I have a copy of it in my office.  To me it points to the heart of Luther’s theology.  On one side there is Luther, his hand firmly planted on the Bible, the story of our redemption.  The other  is pointing to the center of the painting.  On the other side you have the people of Germany.  In the middle hangs Christ on the cross.  Luther’s reminder for us today is that Christ is at the center of our story.  Christ is our redemption now and forever.  In highs and lows of life, from this place out into the world, we cling to Christ, and Christ remembers.

Monday, October 14, 2013

On Being Resurrected and Following Jesus

Here is the manuscript from the sermon preached on October 13, 2013, the 21st Sunday after Pentecost.  We had our annual picnic here at Bethany this weekend and there sermon was not recorded.  Hopefully I will have audio again on the next one.  Blessings on your journey.  

Luke 17:11-19

On the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Samaria and Galilee.  12 And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance 13 and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”   When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed.  15 Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice;  16 and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan.  17 Then Jesus answered, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? 18 Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” 19 And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”


   Growing up I was a member of the Boy Scouts of America.  It is an experience that I still treasure today, an experience from which I still glean valuable wisdom.  My father and my scout masters, hard working men of faith every one of them, gave freely of their time to try to teach junior high and high schools boy how to tie knots, start fires, do basic first aid, and, now an unfortunately dying art, how to read maps.  I like to boast that I have a good sense of direction.  Growing up I could travel to a place once and remember how to get back, and how to get home.  I was good with a map.  And so even today I like to look at maps.  I still have a road atlas in my car.  Sometimes the iPhone map just doesn’t tell the whole story.  Sometimes I like the bigger picture that only a physical, paper map, can provide. 
    When I encounter the names of places in scripture, I like to see where they are on a map.  In the long travel narratives, like the journeys of Paul, its helpful to look at a map to gain more perspective on what the author is trying to communicate.  The journey that we are currently on with Jesus is no different.  Sometimes a little perspective on our whereabouts helps.     
    Our story from Luke this morning takes place in the space between Samaria and Galilee.  We hear that Jesus, on his way to Jerusalem, passes through this borderland, and if we were to take out a map, it wouldn’t make much sense.  This journey to Jerusalem, that started all the way back in chapter nine, is still going on, and the current path just does not make much sense in the flow of the Gospel story.  So perhaps the physical details do not matter and Luke is trying to get us to think deeper.  Perhaps the physical places on a map are not the focus. 
    This morning we again find ourselves in permeable space.  Two weeks ago we heard the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, a story that gives us a glimpse of how God comes to us in this world.  We lifted up the voices of Moses and the prophets, reminding ourselves of the witness of scripture and of great narrative of God’s love, a love that comes to us in permeable spaces.  The reminder from the prophet Amos was that justice is done at the gate.  Mercy is enacted at the gate.  The love of God for the world and our love for one another breaks into the world through permeable spaces. 
    Today, we again have a story that takes place in permeable space.  We are somewhere between Samaria and Galilee.  We might as well be somewhere between Eagle Pass and San Antonio, or Fredericksburg and Austin, or Bethany and main street.  This story could have taken place in any of the permeable spaces that we know, so the focus is not upon the place, but upon what Jesus does and the witness of how God’s love happens in our midst.
    The cast of characters is simply ten leprous men and Jesus.  It would be easy to be sidetracked by the disease of leprosy, but I am not sure that is what Luke is talking about.  The term leper,
λεπροs  in Greek, can refer to any number of skin diseases, so to focus on the disease would be to miss the point.  It’s the result of the disease that is actually crippling to these persons.  Because of the status of leper, they are outside of the community.  They are labeled “unclean” and denied access to the privileges of the community.  In reality, they are dead men walking, cut off from the life of the community.  They are socially dead to the world.  And what’s more, they are held in this status of unclean by the priests, the gatekeepers of status and privilege.  The priests deem these people unclean and literally take their lives away.  It is this broken system of death and power that Jesus confronts and dismantles with his act of healing. 
    So, as the story goes, the lepers follow the rules of the day and shout at Jesus from far off, “Jesus, one of authority, have mercy on us!”  Jesus responds by sending them to the priests, and on the way they discover that they are indeed “made clean” by Jesus.  In an act of healing, Jesus has given these men status, he has labeled them clean and has restored their lives.  This is an instance of social healing.  And then the story gets really interesting.
    On his way to the priest, one of the men realizes that he is cured and turns back to enthusiastically thank Jesus.  And then the punch line comes.  Luke lets us know that this man was a Samaritan, a person Jesus will later label as a foreigner, and the real trouble begins.  This man, a leper, now outed as a foreigner, would not have been able to see the priest at all.  If we spend any time in the Gospels, even in the Old Testament, we come to find that the Jews and the Samaritans do not exactly get along.  They really hated each other in reality.  So here we have a leprous Samaritan being healed by Jesus.  In the social ranks of the day, he is a double outcast.  He is labeled unclean with no way to be named clean.  It was forbidden for foreigners to even enter the temple in Jerusalem, so we can bet that a local priest would refuse his services. 

    But Jesus, in his radical embodiment of God’s love, declares, “Get up and go on your way.  Your faith has made you well.”  Jesus, in a moment of grace, restores this man to life in a community that is not divided by racial or ethic or social or economic barriers.  Jesus gives this man new life in God’s kingdom.  The Greek word for “get up,” Ἀναστὰς (anastas), is a word that is connected to resurrection in Luke’s Gospel, and in much of the New Testament.  In just a few chapters, an angel will remind the women at the tomb that Jesus told them he would rise (Ἀναστὰς) on the third day  This man is resurrected, given the new life that only God’s love can grant.  A love that is freely given to all people.  A love that is present in this life. 

    The word that we translate as “made you well,” is a complex word in Greek that often gets translated as saved, thus rendering a picture of some future life to come, ignoring the present realities that this word communicates.  The word σῴζω (sode'-zo) carries with it the overtones of being made whole to receive the gifts of God’s kingdom in the here and now.   It is a present reality into which the man is received.  It’s a new life in the kingdom of God, the kingdom that we are baptized into....a kingdom that will never pass away.  
    The bottom line is that this is a story of privilege and access; it’s about who has access to the resources that make one a member of the community.  Jesus redraws the lines based on God’s love and mercy, and not on our fallen rubrics of power.  All are welcome and loved in the kingdom of God.  We don’t get to draw the lines.  We are loved and invited to follow.  To follow God into the permeable spaces of life.     
    God is moving and working in the permeable spaces in our lives.  God works in the space between Samaria and Galilee just as God works in the space between Eagle Pass and San Antonio.  God is working in the permeable space between work/school/church and home.  God is working in the permeable space between Bethany and main street.  God is working in the permeable space between life and death.  This is where we are given new life and called to follow.  And here is where the map comes into play. 
    I am not talking about physical maps with place names, but the map of scripture, the Gospel, that points us to the life and ministry of Jesus Christ.  Following Jesus is not about places, but about being open to the movement of God’s love in our world.  The Gospel points to where God’s love is working in the world and is our map to following Jesus and living into that love.      
    Our story is another reminder of God’s radical grace and a challenging call to follow Jesus.  As we continue to learn how to follow Jesus, this is a bold reminder that we follow Jesus into the expansive kingdom of God where all people are included in the community.  We have been empowered to live into this kingdom here and now.  We do this through love.  We do this through how we encounter others.  We do this as we gain a new perspective in following Jesus.
    So rise, friends of Christ, and go on your way.  Your faith has made you whole.  That is our reminder, and our call today.  Rise, be resurrected, and go on you way following Jesus out into the world.  Your faith, your trust, has made you whole. 


Wednesday, October 9, 2013

The Parable of the Ten Lepers - Re-imagined

The idea at the heart of the Bartimaeus Effect is to gain a new perspective by following Jesus Christ.  One aspect of gaining a new perspective is to engage scripture.  And by engage, I want to focus on re-imagining the intersection of our world and scripture.  Where do our lives, the current realities of our world (and particularly our culture), intersect the witness of Jesus Christ?  Where do our lives cross paths with the life and ministry of Jesus Christ?  Or perhaps more honestly; where does Jesus encounter us?

For example. 

This week the revised common lectionary has Luke 17:11-19 as the Gospel text for the day.  Luke 17 contains the story of ten lepers, who upon encountering Jesus, are made clean.  One of lepers, who we learn is a Samaritan, returns rejoicing to Jesus and falls at his feet.  Jesus tells him to rise and that his faith has made him well.  That’s the story in a nut-shell.  But where does it intersect us today?

Below is my rough translation of the story.  I have tried to bring current images into the story and contextualize it to fit my understanding of what is going on in our midst.   

So here it is...


The Parable of the Ten Without Access to Healthcare

And it happened, journeying to Austin, Jesus was going through the middle of Eagle Pass and San Antonio.  As he entered a village, ten social outcasts without access to healthcare approached him.  Keeping their distance, they raised a voice saying, “Jesus, one of authority, have mercy on us.”  When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the healthcare brokers (congress).  And as they went, they were given access to healthcare (they had credible coverage).  Then one of them, when he saw that he had health insurance, turned back, glorifying God with a loud voice.  He fell on his face a Jesus’ feet and thanked him.  And he was a Mexican.  Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean?  But the other nine, where are they?  Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this immigrant (undocumented one)?”  Then he said to him, “Having risen up (as from death), be going on your journey.  Your trust has made you whole (you have a place in the community and the kingdom).”

In this short story, Luke uses three words to describe the healing;

14 & 17 - “cleansed” (καθαρίζω)
15 - “cured” (ἰάομαι)
19 -  “made whole/saved (σῴζω)  

Each word points to a different level of healing within the community.  The first, καθαρίζω, to be cleansed, is a word that points to ritual, access, and identity in the community.  To be clean was a position of status and privilege within the community.  The second, ἰάομαι, points to a state of being.  It acknowledges one’s current status.  The third, σῴζω, signifies a new state of being.  This word has theological depth and has often been translated as “saved,” pointing to some future status.  But the nuances of this word point us to much more.  This word σῴζω carries with it the overtones of being made whole to receive the gifts of God’s kingdom in the here and now.  It points to a new future in the kingdom of God, a very present reality in our midst.  The translation choices I have made wade into the murky waters of metaphor and try to capture the subtle nuances of these words and what they could point to in our context. 

As for translating “lepers” as “social outcasts without access to healthcare,” I think that this captures the statement and description that Luke is attempting to capture in this story.  The term leper in antiquity, for Luke and Jesus, did not point to a specific disease, but to any number of skin conditions.  The ultimate reality is that being a leper made one unclean and thus outside of the community.  A leper had no access to the privileges of society. 

I took the image of priest and turned it into “healthcare broker” or potentially “congress,” because they are the current gatekeepers of privilege in our context.  The priests were the gatekeepers of status in the story from Luke, they controlled who was in and who was out.  Healthcare brokers, and yes congress, are a fitting metaphor for what is happening in our context.  They have the power to decide who’s in and who’s out. 

I struggled with translating the Samaritan in the story as “Mexican” in my rendition.  This is not a social comment on our Mexican/Latino/Latina brothers and sisters, it’s more of a contextual understanding of the story based on the setting I chose. 

Is this translation perfect? 

NO! 

But no translations can claim perfection.  What we have from Luke is an opportunity to re-imagine the world through the eyes of God, through the life and ministry of Jesus, through the love that has raised us all new life. 

Is Luke’s story political? 

Absolutely! 

To separate the religion and politics in this story would be to strip it of its power.  Luke had no concept of the partisan politics of our day.  Neither does God’s kingdom.  This story is about following Jesus and it does not does not conform to the broken power structures and struggles of our world.  Following Jesus means that we will be at odds with worldly power and we are called to be critical of that power, but not based on its rubrics.  As members of the kingdom of God we are called to engage the world with political actions demonstrated by Jesus Christ, namely speaking truth to power and embodying God’s radical love for all people. 

The bottom line is that this is a story of privilege and access; it’s about who has access to the resources that make one a member of the community.  Jesus redraws the lines based on God’s love and mercy, and not on our fallen rubrics of power.  All are welcome and loved in the kingdom of God.  We don’t get to draw the lines.  We are loved and invited to follow.   

This story contains radical grace and a challenging call to follow Jesus.  As we continue to learn how to follow Jesus, this is a bold reminder that we follow Jesus into the expansive kingdom of God where all people are included in the community.  We have been empowered to live into this kingdom here and now.  We do this through love.  We does this through how we encounter others.  We does this as we gain a new perspective in following Jesus.  

May God continue to bless you on the journey! 

Peace,
Travis