(Click on the title above to listen to this sermon)
Advent is a time of hope and expectation for the church; a time when we look forward to the incarnation of Christ, celebrated at Christmas. But Advent also looks forward toward the 2nd Advent of Christ. Advent is the ultimate period of time in which, collectively, the church begins to wait, and see.
But what are we waiting for? Advent can be reduced to simply a prep time for waiting for the birth of Jesus to the exclusion of its expectation of the 2nd Advent of Christ. That is certainly the dominant message that gets proclaimed at Advent – Jesus is coming! But are we really waiting? Do we really want something to happen? Do we really want the something different that Advent promises us? This is the challenge of Sunday’s lectionary readings from Isaiah 40 and Mark 1.
As chapter Isaiah 40 begins, Israel has experienced the tragedy of massive defeat, endured the agony of exile in Babylon, and suffered the unthinkable – God has let the people, and even God’s own house, be destroyed. And so during the time between Isaiah 39 and 40, Israel experienced a period of divine silence.
Divine silence is hard to deal with. We know God is out there, we know God is ruling and is continuing to be sovereign and work out God’s plan. What we don’t know, when faced with divine silence, is whether or not God continues to care for and love us as God’s people, especially when God is silent while we experience severe hardship and pain, as Israel experienced the degradation of their religion, holy places, faith community, and way of life.
Finally, at long last, a message came from God – Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God... At long last, our captivity is over and God is going to act. Isaiah describes a time when God will restore the people and reveal God’s glory, but first the way must be prepared. This preparation will be like a road carved out of the wilderness…valleys will be filled in, mountains will be brought down…the very earth will be leveled so that God’s restoration will have a way and God’s glory can come forth. And so Isaiah was to preach that though life is impermanent and fleeting, God’s word is permanent, and will last forever. God will come and restore the people. God will be a great and mighty warrior to rescue the people, but will treat them like a shepherd tends to his flock; God will act like a mother sheep, leading her children to safety. Isaiah 40 ends in expectant hope.
Our passage from Mark 1 combines Malachi 3 and Isaiah 40 to tell us that John is the one the prophets spoke of, that John is the one who is going to prepare the way and proclaim the salvation of God. And so we read that “John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,” and that Jesus is coming.
I have been guilty of making the anticipated mystery of God a wholly spiritual one. I have been guilty of making Jesus’ message and the message of the New Testament simply and exclusively about redemption from sin. But we mustn’t forget that the comfort of Isaiah 40, in fact the anticipation of the coming of the Messiah throughout the Old Testament, was not primarily about salvation from sin, but about salvation from oppression and injustice. The people longed for a day when the evil forces of this world would be defeated. Salvation would be from the systemic evil of the world expressed in evil empires and tyrants, from one class of society oppressing another, from one group of people going hungry while another ate their fill, from systems that are designed to keep one group poor so that another can get rich. Yes salvation was for the forgiveness of sins, but it is not limited to that…the anticipated salvation from God was for a new world order to begin. And onto this expectant scene for a new world order marches the voice crying out in the wilderness saying the kingdom is coming, the new manifestation of God’s reign is coming – and the way to prepare for it is to repent.
Advent is not just about waiting for Jesus so we can have our sins forgiven. Advent has always been about waiting for God to act redemptively in the world to bring shalom, or peace, or health, or wholeness to it. Peace between us and God; peace or shalom between us; and there can be no peace or shalom until there is equity and justice – until there is reconciliation. We are waiting for the very manifestation of God’s reign that the people of Israel in Egypt and the captive Jews in Babylon were waiting for. We are waiting for the manifestation of the very kingdom of God that the 1st century Jews and Christians were waiting for.
The people of God, on both sides of the cross, have always been looking for God to move and act redemptively in the world. I think this is why John’s message was a message of repentance. John tells us that repentance is primarily a relational event. Repentance is a way to restore relationships with other people and repentance is a way to be reconciled or restored to God. This message is brought out best in Luke 3, which contains a fuller version of John’s preaching and call to repentance in anticipation of the coming salvation of the Lord.
Repentance is acting out the new kind of life made possible by the redemptive act of God. Repentance is living out the life of the kingdom that we are waiting for. Repentance is about turning around and actively working against the forces of evil that seek to build barriers between people and between people and God. It is about restoring equity and justice in our relationships with other people. And it is about recognizing when we are participating in systems of injustice and inequity and seeking to right that wrong. Repentance is about acting now in a way that honors the one who is coming who will act finally and redemptively at the end to bring about final and complete shalom, to and for all people. And if Isaiah and John are to be believed, when the people of God repent in preparation for the coming redemptive action of God, a new world is born.
Sunday was the 2nd Sunday of Advent. Originally, Advent was a time of penitence and fasting, much as the Season of Lent. But in recent times, the penitential nature of Advent has been replaced with a more positive message of hope and anticipation. However, the readings for the 2nd Sunday in Advent put the two together. They proclaim to us a message of comfort that salvation is coming, but call on us to repent because salvation is coming.
The challenge of Advent is to see that God is always a God of Advent. God is always doing something new. God is always working to bring peace and reconciliation. This is who God is. Our task is to look for those places where God is working; and I think that we will find some extraordinary things. God works through a baby in a manger in an insignificant town in a tiny country to change the world. God works through the shame of a cross, a death that robs one of dignity and significance in order to bring dignity and significance to the world. Could it also be that God works through a small and seemingly insignificant church to change the world again? I think that is what we are waiting for. May it be so!
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Psalm 80: A Cry for God's Salvation
(Click on the above title to hear JJ's sermon from Psalm 80)
The lectionary asked us to consider Psalm 80 as a part of the readings for the 1st Sunday in Advent. Despite the difficulty presented by the Psalms as a resource for preaching (their liturgical purpose, the difficulty in determining their historical context, and the communal nature of the Psalms), it seemed appropriate to begin the Christian year with a Psalm that has the Lord’s people crying out for the Lord’s salvation and deliverance.
Psalm 80 is a psalm of lament. Lament Psalms can have a hard time connecting with contemporary American Christian audiences, perhaps because so much of the American Christian experience over the last few decades has been largely a triumphant experience. The dominant theme of American Christianity is the goodness of God. We tend to equate material wealth and economic prosperity as signs of the blessing of God, which while true, tends to create a fairly skewed view of Christianity. However, psalms of lament insert a mournful and angry tone into worship, inviting believers to confess their own disillusionments and disappointments with life and with God. So for a church that has been nurtured consistently on messages of God’s goodness and grace and mercy, a Psalm that is angry with God and accuses God of abandoning God’s people and being responsible for their pain and suffering has a difficult time connecting. We are largely uncomfortable with such accusatory expressions directed at God, and even more uncomfortable with their public expression in worship, where we tend to favor messages that have a more positive spin.
But back to Psalm 80. It starts off rather bleak. We are not told of the situation, but the community is crying out for God to save them. The cry of verse 2 – “Stir up your might and come and save us!” becomes the refrain of the entire Psalm, found in vs. 3, 7, and 19 – “Restore us, O God of hosts, let your face shine, that we may be saved.”
The actual situation that gives birth to the cry for salvation is difficult to establish. Some have suggested that the psalm was written in the aftermath of the Babylonian exile by a people who have had to come to grips with the ultimate challenge to their faith – abandonment by God that led to a loss of their home country. Others have suggested that the cry of salvation arose as the intense cry of pain from a community that has been torn in two by the division of the kingdom between Rehoboam and Jeroboam after Solomon died. Regardless of the situation, the cry for restoration is a communal cry for God to restore the kingdom, to right the wrong that they believe has been done to them by God.
Their experience is apparently one of pain. The people are afraid, and feel abandoned and frustrated because of it. All the while God appears to them to be unmoved by their plight. God seems strangely absent. And so the Psalm moves from a cry for restoration to a tone of accusation. God has fed them the bread of tears, God has made them the scorn of their neighbors and God has caused their enemies to laugh at them. Finally, after cries of pain and accusation, the Psalm ends with a plea for God to send his righteous servant to restore the people back to God.
How do we connect with such a Psalm of lament?
Many people never question their relationship with God. They know God is present and in some cases are keenly aware of that presence most of the time. But for others, such a relationship with God is not easy. For these people, faith is a challenge, especially when confronted with difficult circumstances and situations in life that just make no sense and have no real solution. For some, they just can’t seem to find their place in life. For others, they just can’t seem to get ahead and can’t seem to get over the lumps that everyday life keeps sending them. We all have either experienced or known people who have experienced the feelings of fear, uncertainty, abandonment, and anger toward God that are engendered in Psalm 80. For these people, it is comforting to know that God can handle our lamentations…God can handle our questions and God can handle our accusations. However challenging and discouraging and discombobulating we might find the dark night of the soul, it can be a vehicle toward greater faith, if we have but the courage to lay our feelings and emotions honestly before God.
But the Psalm is a communal lament. In the Psalm, the community is afraid because the kingdom that they once knew is no longer. Whether the Psalm is about the divided kingdom or the Babylonian exile, the situation for the kingdom looks bleak. It went from a thriving, growing, powerful kingdom to a small and seemingly insignificant kingdom, threatened by its larger, richer, and more powerful neighbors. The faith community, finally and at long last, has realized that there is nothing for it to do but cry to God for salvation, and wait expectantly for God’s deliverance. And their expectant hope took concrete shape in the form of a person who is at God’s right hand, the one whom God made strong, and this person will restore the people to faithfulness, life, and worship – waiting for the advent of God’s divine action for God’s people.
I submit that our church situation is the situation of the community in Psalm 80. We were once larger than we are, but over time have gotten smaller. We are surrounded by larger and richer churches who are competing (probably not the right word) for the same new members that we are. We are struggling to find our way; to discern the will of God; to figure out a way to survive and thrive and grow when it seems as if the deck is stacked against us. We too are afraid of what is going to happen to our church in the future. I would even bet that there might be those among us who have a hard time deciding what God can possibly be doing to let things get to this point. We have done everything as faithfully as we knew how. We made decisions and congregational moves that we believed were the best for the church, and because we believed them to be the leading of the Holy Spirit, and yet now we are not sure what to do or where to go.
Psalm 80 is a psalm in which the community of faith acknowledges that on the one hand God is in control, but on the other hand laments because of the uncertainty of its present circumstance and is clearly waiting for God to come and save us. Today is the 1st Sunday in Advent, and lament is appropriate language for Advent. If Advent were only about heart-warming stories of a baby in a manger, then Advent might fail to connect with us in our times of darkness and discontent. To own our fear and lament our circumstance and the challenges it brings us is to profess and deepen our own faith in God. Let us not forget that Psalm 80 – a psalm of lament, moves from despair and accusation, fear and abandonment to a renewed hope that God will act and see that God’s will is done. So perhaps our proper response to our circumstances, as Advent begins, is to mimic the act of faith and hope in Psalm 80 – to cry out to God and dare to see and expect a greater manifestation of the reign of God where others might see and expect nothing. Like the people in Psalm 80, we address God when God seems absent. We expect and hope that in spite of our fears, we will see God in the most surprising places – in a manger – or the most God-forsaken places – on a cross.
Advent is the time where we cry out – “Restore us, O Lord God of hosts, let your face shine that we may be saved.”
The lectionary asked us to consider Psalm 80 as a part of the readings for the 1st Sunday in Advent. Despite the difficulty presented by the Psalms as a resource for preaching (their liturgical purpose, the difficulty in determining their historical context, and the communal nature of the Psalms), it seemed appropriate to begin the Christian year with a Psalm that has the Lord’s people crying out for the Lord’s salvation and deliverance.
Psalm 80 is a psalm of lament. Lament Psalms can have a hard time connecting with contemporary American Christian audiences, perhaps because so much of the American Christian experience over the last few decades has been largely a triumphant experience. The dominant theme of American Christianity is the goodness of God. We tend to equate material wealth and economic prosperity as signs of the blessing of God, which while true, tends to create a fairly skewed view of Christianity. However, psalms of lament insert a mournful and angry tone into worship, inviting believers to confess their own disillusionments and disappointments with life and with God. So for a church that has been nurtured consistently on messages of God’s goodness and grace and mercy, a Psalm that is angry with God and accuses God of abandoning God’s people and being responsible for their pain and suffering has a difficult time connecting. We are largely uncomfortable with such accusatory expressions directed at God, and even more uncomfortable with their public expression in worship, where we tend to favor messages that have a more positive spin.
But back to Psalm 80. It starts off rather bleak. We are not told of the situation, but the community is crying out for God to save them. The cry of verse 2 – “Stir up your might and come and save us!” becomes the refrain of the entire Psalm, found in vs. 3, 7, and 19 – “Restore us, O God of hosts, let your face shine, that we may be saved.”
The actual situation that gives birth to the cry for salvation is difficult to establish. Some have suggested that the psalm was written in the aftermath of the Babylonian exile by a people who have had to come to grips with the ultimate challenge to their faith – abandonment by God that led to a loss of their home country. Others have suggested that the cry of salvation arose as the intense cry of pain from a community that has been torn in two by the division of the kingdom between Rehoboam and Jeroboam after Solomon died. Regardless of the situation, the cry for restoration is a communal cry for God to restore the kingdom, to right the wrong that they believe has been done to them by God.
Their experience is apparently one of pain. The people are afraid, and feel abandoned and frustrated because of it. All the while God appears to them to be unmoved by their plight. God seems strangely absent. And so the Psalm moves from a cry for restoration to a tone of accusation. God has fed them the bread of tears, God has made them the scorn of their neighbors and God has caused their enemies to laugh at them. Finally, after cries of pain and accusation, the Psalm ends with a plea for God to send his righteous servant to restore the people back to God.
How do we connect with such a Psalm of lament?
Many people never question their relationship with God. They know God is present and in some cases are keenly aware of that presence most of the time. But for others, such a relationship with God is not easy. For these people, faith is a challenge, especially when confronted with difficult circumstances and situations in life that just make no sense and have no real solution. For some, they just can’t seem to find their place in life. For others, they just can’t seem to get ahead and can’t seem to get over the lumps that everyday life keeps sending them. We all have either experienced or known people who have experienced the feelings of fear, uncertainty, abandonment, and anger toward God that are engendered in Psalm 80. For these people, it is comforting to know that God can handle our lamentations…God can handle our questions and God can handle our accusations. However challenging and discouraging and discombobulating we might find the dark night of the soul, it can be a vehicle toward greater faith, if we have but the courage to lay our feelings and emotions honestly before God.
But the Psalm is a communal lament. In the Psalm, the community is afraid because the kingdom that they once knew is no longer. Whether the Psalm is about the divided kingdom or the Babylonian exile, the situation for the kingdom looks bleak. It went from a thriving, growing, powerful kingdom to a small and seemingly insignificant kingdom, threatened by its larger, richer, and more powerful neighbors. The faith community, finally and at long last, has realized that there is nothing for it to do but cry to God for salvation, and wait expectantly for God’s deliverance. And their expectant hope took concrete shape in the form of a person who is at God’s right hand, the one whom God made strong, and this person will restore the people to faithfulness, life, and worship – waiting for the advent of God’s divine action for God’s people.
I submit that our church situation is the situation of the community in Psalm 80. We were once larger than we are, but over time have gotten smaller. We are surrounded by larger and richer churches who are competing (probably not the right word) for the same new members that we are. We are struggling to find our way; to discern the will of God; to figure out a way to survive and thrive and grow when it seems as if the deck is stacked against us. We too are afraid of what is going to happen to our church in the future. I would even bet that there might be those among us who have a hard time deciding what God can possibly be doing to let things get to this point. We have done everything as faithfully as we knew how. We made decisions and congregational moves that we believed were the best for the church, and because we believed them to be the leading of the Holy Spirit, and yet now we are not sure what to do or where to go.
Psalm 80 is a psalm in which the community of faith acknowledges that on the one hand God is in control, but on the other hand laments because of the uncertainty of its present circumstance and is clearly waiting for God to come and save us. Today is the 1st Sunday in Advent, and lament is appropriate language for Advent. If Advent were only about heart-warming stories of a baby in a manger, then Advent might fail to connect with us in our times of darkness and discontent. To own our fear and lament our circumstance and the challenges it brings us is to profess and deepen our own faith in God. Let us not forget that Psalm 80 – a psalm of lament, moves from despair and accusation, fear and abandonment to a renewed hope that God will act and see that God’s will is done. So perhaps our proper response to our circumstances, as Advent begins, is to mimic the act of faith and hope in Psalm 80 – to cry out to God and dare to see and expect a greater manifestation of the reign of God where others might see and expect nothing. Like the people in Psalm 80, we address God when God seems absent. We expect and hope that in spite of our fears, we will see God in the most surprising places – in a manger – or the most God-forsaken places – on a cross.
Advent is the time where we cry out – “Restore us, O Lord God of hosts, let your face shine that we may be saved.”
Mark 4:35-41 - Jesus is in the boat
(Click on the title above to hear JJ's sermon)
This sermon was recorded at the Rosedale Fellowship gathering, of which Cahaba Valley is a part. Rosedale is the only African American neighborhood in Homewood, and Cahaba Valley got involved with the Rosedale churches as a part of a social justice effort to keep Rosedale from being taken over and developed for business and commercial use. This is a gathering held every 5th Sunday, and JJ preached at the last one held this year.
Mark 4:35-41
On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’ And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’ And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’
This sermon was recorded at the Rosedale Fellowship gathering, of which Cahaba Valley is a part. Rosedale is the only African American neighborhood in Homewood, and Cahaba Valley got involved with the Rosedale churches as a part of a social justice effort to keep Rosedale from being taken over and developed for business and commercial use. This is a gathering held every 5th Sunday, and JJ preached at the last one held this year.
Mark 4:35-41
On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’ And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’ And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’
Sunday, November 16, 2008
A Paralyzing Fear - A Reflection on Matthew 25:14-30
(Click on the title above to hear JJ's sermon)
For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away…
One has to wonder about the wisdom of putting the parable of the talents right next to the parable of the ten virgins. They both are part of a private conversation between Jesus and the disciples (ch. 24) and both are about the general theme of the final judgment. However, their placement together might send a mixed message. Maybe the third slave in the ‘talent’ parable had heard the story of the 5 foolish virgins who ran out of oil and took it to heart. He did not want to be the one let without ‘oil’ or without ‘talents’ at the master’s return. Therefore, he did the most natural and fiscally responsible thing – he buried the money, so that he would have the master’s money when the master returned. Yet instead of rewarding the servant for prudence and preparedness, he had him thrown into outer darkness, a place of weeping and gnashing of teeth. That seems totally unfair.
Any reading on the parable of the talents would likely lead to a conclusion that it has something to do with being faithful with what God has entrusted to us. This message is established through allegory, the dominant way that parables used to be interpreted, in which the master represents Jesus, his return represents the 2nd coming and the final judgment, and the servants are Jesus’ disciples, today represented by the church. So, many of these writings on the parable would argue that the central issue of the parable is this: what does Jesus entrust us with? Or, to put it a different way, what do the talents represent?
What are the options? Augustine thought that the talents represented salvation; others believe that the talents represent the Law, and still others the Word of God. Some people don’t think the talents mean anything – they are just a way to demonstrate the unfaithfulness of the third servant. But the number one option for the meaning of the talents, put forward by John Chrysostym, is this – they symbolize personal gifts and abilities to be used in the service of the Son of Man. So the talents represent talent.
To make the correlation between the talent and talent is a legitimate reading of the story. But it does come with a couple of problems. If I’m reading the story correctly, the first two servants double their 'talents'; this implies that using one's gifts and abilities will result in the gaining of more gifts and abilities. The issue is further clouded by verse 28 where the one talent of the third servant is taken away and given to the first servant. How this could be said to apply to gifts and abilities is not exactly clear. A further complication is that the gaining of new talents/abilities happens after the return of the master, or after the return of Jesus, which further clouds the issue. Additionally, at face value, one critique of this reading is that it espouses a work-centered theology that most of us simply cannot agree with. Perhaps I’m reading way too much into the story and taking the allegory too far, but it certainly does make you wonder whether the talents are really meant to be talent.
What if the major issue in the text, thought, doesn’t have to do with trying to identify what the talents represent at all?
Maybe a better question is this – what is the difference between the servants that led to such different outcomes upon the master’s return?
The answer is fear. The third servant was afraid. Maybe he did know the story of the virgins and didn’t want to be the one left empty-handed when the master returned…burying the money until that time was the safe thing to do.
Given our country’s current financial situation, his plan sounds good. Think about the incredible audacity of the first two servants to put their master’s fortune at risk. The story moves through the investment and return so quickly that we are tempted to think it is almost a given that the servant’s investment of the master’s money will automatically pay off – but that is not necessarily the case. These guys possessed some kind of nerve to take a fortune that they neither earned nor could pay back and put it completely at risk, enduring the possibility that they would be left to greet the master upon his return with nothing.
I can totally relate to the third servant. I grew up believing that “it is better to be safe than sorry.” I have lived significant portions of my life in fear…fear of dieing, fear of the unknown, fear of failure…even fear of success. Fear can be absolutely and totally paralyzing, prompting us to see burying money (and even our heads in the sand) as an example of sound, fiscally responsive policy. Fear is a totally merciless and demanding master that can take over and run our lives into the ground.
Many of us have recently been talking about trying to grow our church. Telling people about Jesus can make us afraid. I think probably the number one reason that people don’t engage in evangelism is because they are afraid. What if people say no? What if people think we’re stupid? The challenge to grow and be evangelistic and engage people in conversations about faith and salvation challenge us and our faith on its deepest level – do we have the faith to conquer our fear and take the risks to win people to Christ? Or perhaps our fear takes us in a different direction. What happens if we fail? What happens if we make a mistake? What happens if we totally blow it and instead of growing we lose more members? What happens if we go broke? What happens if we die? Or, maybe worse…what happens if we are successful and actually grow? You cannot grow a church and not experience at least minimal, but more likely, significant change. As we all know, change is an occasion for fear as well.
I think the message of this parable for us is this: there is no responsible use of the gifts of God, there is no responsible work in God’s service that does not involve taking risks. Stasis is impossible. There is no standing still, no burying of capital allowed. Responsible discharge of our calling as Christians and our calling as a church requires us to take risks for the Kingdom, risks we would rather avoid. The parable pushes us beyond the apparent issues of industriousness and using our talents to a harder truth – service for the king is a dangerous affair that calls for us to risk everything for the sake of the reward that stands before us. I can’t help but think back to Jesus' words to the disciples, "Those who want to save their lives will lose them and those who lose their lives for my sake will find them."
So I guess it makes sense, after all, to put this parable next to the parable of the ten virgins. “Be ready for a long delay as you wait for my return,” says Jesus, “but don’t let fear keep you from serving me with all you have in the meantime.”
For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away…
One has to wonder about the wisdom of putting the parable of the talents right next to the parable of the ten virgins. They both are part of a private conversation between Jesus and the disciples (ch. 24) and both are about the general theme of the final judgment. However, their placement together might send a mixed message. Maybe the third slave in the ‘talent’ parable had heard the story of the 5 foolish virgins who ran out of oil and took it to heart. He did not want to be the one let without ‘oil’ or without ‘talents’ at the master’s return. Therefore, he did the most natural and fiscally responsible thing – he buried the money, so that he would have the master’s money when the master returned. Yet instead of rewarding the servant for prudence and preparedness, he had him thrown into outer darkness, a place of weeping and gnashing of teeth. That seems totally unfair.
Any reading on the parable of the talents would likely lead to a conclusion that it has something to do with being faithful with what God has entrusted to us. This message is established through allegory, the dominant way that parables used to be interpreted, in which the master represents Jesus, his return represents the 2nd coming and the final judgment, and the servants are Jesus’ disciples, today represented by the church. So, many of these writings on the parable would argue that the central issue of the parable is this: what does Jesus entrust us with? Or, to put it a different way, what do the talents represent?
What are the options? Augustine thought that the talents represented salvation; others believe that the talents represent the Law, and still others the Word of God. Some people don’t think the talents mean anything – they are just a way to demonstrate the unfaithfulness of the third servant. But the number one option for the meaning of the talents, put forward by John Chrysostym, is this – they symbolize personal gifts and abilities to be used in the service of the Son of Man. So the talents represent talent.
To make the correlation between the talent and talent is a legitimate reading of the story. But it does come with a couple of problems. If I’m reading the story correctly, the first two servants double their 'talents'; this implies that using one's gifts and abilities will result in the gaining of more gifts and abilities. The issue is further clouded by verse 28 where the one talent of the third servant is taken away and given to the first servant. How this could be said to apply to gifts and abilities is not exactly clear. A further complication is that the gaining of new talents/abilities happens after the return of the master, or after the return of Jesus, which further clouds the issue. Additionally, at face value, one critique of this reading is that it espouses a work-centered theology that most of us simply cannot agree with. Perhaps I’m reading way too much into the story and taking the allegory too far, but it certainly does make you wonder whether the talents are really meant to be talent.
What if the major issue in the text, thought, doesn’t have to do with trying to identify what the talents represent at all?
Maybe a better question is this – what is the difference between the servants that led to such different outcomes upon the master’s return?
The answer is fear. The third servant was afraid. Maybe he did know the story of the virgins and didn’t want to be the one left empty-handed when the master returned…burying the money until that time was the safe thing to do.
Given our country’s current financial situation, his plan sounds good. Think about the incredible audacity of the first two servants to put their master’s fortune at risk. The story moves through the investment and return so quickly that we are tempted to think it is almost a given that the servant’s investment of the master’s money will automatically pay off – but that is not necessarily the case. These guys possessed some kind of nerve to take a fortune that they neither earned nor could pay back and put it completely at risk, enduring the possibility that they would be left to greet the master upon his return with nothing.
I can totally relate to the third servant. I grew up believing that “it is better to be safe than sorry.” I have lived significant portions of my life in fear…fear of dieing, fear of the unknown, fear of failure…even fear of success. Fear can be absolutely and totally paralyzing, prompting us to see burying money (and even our heads in the sand) as an example of sound, fiscally responsive policy. Fear is a totally merciless and demanding master that can take over and run our lives into the ground.
Many of us have recently been talking about trying to grow our church. Telling people about Jesus can make us afraid. I think probably the number one reason that people don’t engage in evangelism is because they are afraid. What if people say no? What if people think we’re stupid? The challenge to grow and be evangelistic and engage people in conversations about faith and salvation challenge us and our faith on its deepest level – do we have the faith to conquer our fear and take the risks to win people to Christ? Or perhaps our fear takes us in a different direction. What happens if we fail? What happens if we make a mistake? What happens if we totally blow it and instead of growing we lose more members? What happens if we go broke? What happens if we die? Or, maybe worse…what happens if we are successful and actually grow? You cannot grow a church and not experience at least minimal, but more likely, significant change. As we all know, change is an occasion for fear as well.
I think the message of this parable for us is this: there is no responsible use of the gifts of God, there is no responsible work in God’s service that does not involve taking risks. Stasis is impossible. There is no standing still, no burying of capital allowed. Responsible discharge of our calling as Christians and our calling as a church requires us to take risks for the Kingdom, risks we would rather avoid. The parable pushes us beyond the apparent issues of industriousness and using our talents to a harder truth – service for the king is a dangerous affair that calls for us to risk everything for the sake of the reward that stands before us. I can’t help but think back to Jesus' words to the disciples, "Those who want to save their lives will lose them and those who lose their lives for my sake will find them."
So I guess it makes sense, after all, to put this parable next to the parable of the ten virgins. “Be ready for a long delay as you wait for my return,” says Jesus, “but don’t let fear keep you from serving me with all you have in the meantime.”
Sunday, November 9, 2008
A Reflection on Matt. 25:1-13 - The Parable of the Ten Virgins
(Click on the title above to hear this sermon)
Sunday, November 2, 2008
A Reflection about All Saints/All Souls Day
(Click on the above title to hear the sermon from Nov. 2, 2008)
This past Sunday we celebrated All Saints and All Souls Day. From the first century, the Church has always honored those who have died in the Lord. During the church’s first three centuries, Christians often encountered severe persecution, suffering torture and bloody death because they refused to deny Christ, even when this denial might have saved their own lives, or the lives of their children and families. The stories of these martyrs provide models for how Christians throughout the centuries should live as Christ’s disciples. Even today we know the importance of remembering people of extraordinary achievement and exemplary character. We celebrate President’s day (honoring Lincoln and Washington as exemplary presidents), Columbus day, July 4th, Veteran’s day, Memorial day, Martin Luther King Day, etc.
Furthermore, there are at least two places in the New Testament that hint at such a practice. The first is in Hebrews 12:1-2, which says since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses (referring back to the heroes of faith in chapter 11)…let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us. The second place is in Revelation 7, our New Testament lectionary passage for this week.
I confess that I am intimidated by the book of Revelation. I just don’t understand apocalyptic literature. It has been helpful for me, however, to understand that Revelation was written to address a specific historical context. The emperor, in this case Domitian, claimed to be God and everyone was expected to acknowledge his deity. Rome was seen as the ultimate power in this world and that it bestowed the blessings of peace and prosperity on those who were loyal. Therefore, all patriotic citizens would support the state as the ultimate source of blessing. However, to the first century Christian, such claims could only be heard as a blasphemous usurpation of God’s sole authority as the Almighty – Jesus is Lord, and not Caesar.
The Asian Christians claimed that God is the Almighty ruler, and that Jesus is Lord, but their life experience was one of pain and frustration, suffered at the hands of pagans. How were they to make sense of this paradox?
John gives their experience meaning by telling a story in which the power of God is contrasted with the power of the emperor and empire. The story assures the reader that those forces currently at work against God, forces of oppression and injustice, will be overthrown by the liberating act of God. The Christ, the agent of God’s liberating act, appeared, confronted the kingdom of this world established on violence and oppression, and conquered.
But instead of conquering through violence and oppression, he conquered through suffering and death. The king is also the lamb, and the suffering and death of the Christ represents the very power of God to overthrow the dark forces of this world. Therefore, as suffering and death was Christ’s ultimate victory, so death and suffering is to be the Christian’s ultimate victory.
So at last we come to Revelation 7 where we are transported to the heavenly throne room. There are the four living creatures surrounding the throne, and the angelic host, and the 24 elders, all singing – “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God for ever and ever! Amen.” There is an innumerable group of people from every nation, tribe, and tongue, dressed in white robes, holding palm branches and crying out “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!”
An elder comes and tells us that “these are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb…” These are the people whose faith stayed strong in the face of the might of the empire, who never wavered from their conviction that Jesus is Lord, and who ultimately gave their lives for that confession of faith. These are the martyrs.
This vision was given to give us hope regarding the outcome of our difficult, threatened, persecuted existence in the world of the empire. “Stay strong in the faith,” says John’s apocalypse, “because you will join this group, in a place where the physical trials of this life will be gone, the injustices of this world will be put to right, and where you can enjoy being in the presence of the king.” "Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses," says Hebrews 12:1, "let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us..." Jesus put it this way - "Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven..."
We no longer suffer under the tyrannical rule of an emperor and empire that persecutes us because we do not recognize it as lord of our lives. I think, though, that we would have to admit that the rule of the empire is alive and well. It doesn’t threaten us with torture and death…it tempts us with prosperity and an easy life-style. Our ordeal is trying to resist buying into the way that this world works. In our day and age, the great ordeal is not the threat of death, but the grim conflict of loyalties in which a Christian may well be in genuine doubt about where his or her duty lies. Common sense says: The true power in the world to save is the United States, or capitalism, or democracy. The Revelation says: the true power is the Lamb of God, whose power is made manifest, not in the weapons of violence, but in the intentional submission of life to death for others. The problem we face today is the same as in the past…how do we not cave in to a common sense that defines reality as the power of wealth, violence, and exploitation of the environment, rather than defining reality as the Lamb of God who conquered and achieved victory through service, selflessness, suffering, and death on the cross?
Today is All Saints/All Souls Day. It is a day where we are challenged to remember the martyrs who gave themselves for the cause of Christ and to be encouraged in our faith because of their example. They remind us that church is not just a social club where we go to get our social needs met; Christianity is not simply where we come to suck the blood from Jesus in an exercise of cheap grace while we ignore his call to radical discipleship where there is no compromise to be brokered between the power of God and the power of the empire. Those people in white robes, those who put their lives on the altar of faith in Christ believed that Christianity was irreconcilable with “good citizenship” in the empire of this world. The martyrs remind us that the call of Christ is to radical discipleship, where we are asked to leave father and mother, leave the comfort and security of the promised prosperity from the modern empire and asked instead to follow Jesus down Calvary’s road.
Therefore, let us raise our voices and cry with that great host of martyrs in heaven “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” Let us join with those who are now enduring the great tribulation, those oppressed by poverty, or war, or natural disaster. Let us unite ourselves with those holy martyrs robed in white before the throne, those of every nation and tribe and people and language: Men and women, all races, all ages who through their enduring witness, have taught us what it really means to stand up on proclaim and bear witness that Jesus is Lord.
This past Sunday we celebrated All Saints and All Souls Day. From the first century, the Church has always honored those who have died in the Lord. During the church’s first three centuries, Christians often encountered severe persecution, suffering torture and bloody death because they refused to deny Christ, even when this denial might have saved their own lives, or the lives of their children and families. The stories of these martyrs provide models for how Christians throughout the centuries should live as Christ’s disciples. Even today we know the importance of remembering people of extraordinary achievement and exemplary character. We celebrate President’s day (honoring Lincoln and Washington as exemplary presidents), Columbus day, July 4th, Veteran’s day, Memorial day, Martin Luther King Day, etc.
Furthermore, there are at least two places in the New Testament that hint at such a practice. The first is in Hebrews 12:1-2, which says since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses (referring back to the heroes of faith in chapter 11)…let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us. The second place is in Revelation 7, our New Testament lectionary passage for this week.
I confess that I am intimidated by the book of Revelation. I just don’t understand apocalyptic literature. It has been helpful for me, however, to understand that Revelation was written to address a specific historical context. The emperor, in this case Domitian, claimed to be God and everyone was expected to acknowledge his deity. Rome was seen as the ultimate power in this world and that it bestowed the blessings of peace and prosperity on those who were loyal. Therefore, all patriotic citizens would support the state as the ultimate source of blessing. However, to the first century Christian, such claims could only be heard as a blasphemous usurpation of God’s sole authority as the Almighty – Jesus is Lord, and not Caesar.
The Asian Christians claimed that God is the Almighty ruler, and that Jesus is Lord, but their life experience was one of pain and frustration, suffered at the hands of pagans. How were they to make sense of this paradox?
John gives their experience meaning by telling a story in which the power of God is contrasted with the power of the emperor and empire. The story assures the reader that those forces currently at work against God, forces of oppression and injustice, will be overthrown by the liberating act of God. The Christ, the agent of God’s liberating act, appeared, confronted the kingdom of this world established on violence and oppression, and conquered.
But instead of conquering through violence and oppression, he conquered through suffering and death. The king is also the lamb, and the suffering and death of the Christ represents the very power of God to overthrow the dark forces of this world. Therefore, as suffering and death was Christ’s ultimate victory, so death and suffering is to be the Christian’s ultimate victory.
So at last we come to Revelation 7 where we are transported to the heavenly throne room. There are the four living creatures surrounding the throne, and the angelic host, and the 24 elders, all singing – “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God for ever and ever! Amen.” There is an innumerable group of people from every nation, tribe, and tongue, dressed in white robes, holding palm branches and crying out “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!”
An elder comes and tells us that “these are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb…” These are the people whose faith stayed strong in the face of the might of the empire, who never wavered from their conviction that Jesus is Lord, and who ultimately gave their lives for that confession of faith. These are the martyrs.
This vision was given to give us hope regarding the outcome of our difficult, threatened, persecuted existence in the world of the empire. “Stay strong in the faith,” says John’s apocalypse, “because you will join this group, in a place where the physical trials of this life will be gone, the injustices of this world will be put to right, and where you can enjoy being in the presence of the king.” "Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses," says Hebrews 12:1, "let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us..." Jesus put it this way - "Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven..."
We no longer suffer under the tyrannical rule of an emperor and empire that persecutes us because we do not recognize it as lord of our lives. I think, though, that we would have to admit that the rule of the empire is alive and well. It doesn’t threaten us with torture and death…it tempts us with prosperity and an easy life-style. Our ordeal is trying to resist buying into the way that this world works. In our day and age, the great ordeal is not the threat of death, but the grim conflict of loyalties in which a Christian may well be in genuine doubt about where his or her duty lies. Common sense says: The true power in the world to save is the United States, or capitalism, or democracy. The Revelation says: the true power is the Lamb of God, whose power is made manifest, not in the weapons of violence, but in the intentional submission of life to death for others. The problem we face today is the same as in the past…how do we not cave in to a common sense that defines reality as the power of wealth, violence, and exploitation of the environment, rather than defining reality as the Lamb of God who conquered and achieved victory through service, selflessness, suffering, and death on the cross?
Today is All Saints/All Souls Day. It is a day where we are challenged to remember the martyrs who gave themselves for the cause of Christ and to be encouraged in our faith because of their example. They remind us that church is not just a social club where we go to get our social needs met; Christianity is not simply where we come to suck the blood from Jesus in an exercise of cheap grace while we ignore his call to radical discipleship where there is no compromise to be brokered between the power of God and the power of the empire. Those people in white robes, those who put their lives on the altar of faith in Christ believed that Christianity was irreconcilable with “good citizenship” in the empire of this world. The martyrs remind us that the call of Christ is to radical discipleship, where we are asked to leave father and mother, leave the comfort and security of the promised prosperity from the modern empire and asked instead to follow Jesus down Calvary’s road.
Therefore, let us raise our voices and cry with that great host of martyrs in heaven “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” Let us join with those who are now enduring the great tribulation, those oppressed by poverty, or war, or natural disaster. Let us unite ourselves with those holy martyrs robed in white before the throne, those of every nation and tribe and people and language: Men and women, all races, all ages who through their enduring witness, have taught us what it really means to stand up on proclaim and bear witness that Jesus is Lord.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
A Reflection on Leviticus 19
(Click on the title to hear JJ's sermon on Leviticus 19 from October 26, 2008)
In 1861, Harriet Jacobs wrote the first slave narrative composed and published by an African American woman entitled “Incidents in the life of a slave girl.” This is what she wrote about her early childhood mistress:
“After a brief period of suspense, the will of my mistress was read, and we learned that she had bequeathed me to her sister's daughter, a child of five years old. So vanished our hopes. My mistress had taught me the precepts of God's Word: "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." "Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them." But I was her slave, and I supposed she did not recognize me as her neighbor. I would give much to blot out from my memory that one great wrong. As a child, I loved my mistress; and, looking back on the happy days I spent with her, I try to think with less bitterness of this act of injustice. While I was with her, she taught me to read and spell; and for this privilege, which so rarely falls to the lot of a slave, I bless her memory.”
I have no doubt that Ms. Jacobs’ mistress was a deeply religious woman. But like many that we come into contact with everyday, I am not sure she was really Christ’s disciple. For some reason, religion and discipleship are thought to be separate from each other – as if what we do on Sunday has nothing to do with what we do during the week. I suppose that the people of God have always tried to separate them; and I suppose the prophets of God have always tried bringing them back together, as they are brought together in Leviticus 19.
Leviticus 19:2 says – You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy. Following this bold declaration is a litany of laws that may seem unreasonably legalistic, authoritarian, and completely foreign to our worldview, but whose purpose, simply put, was to make God’s people holy.
What does it mean to be holy? Ubiquitous in both the Old and New Testaments, holiness sounds like a religious concern, not a discipleship one. The very word ‘holy’ tends to conjure into our minds images of cowled monks huddled in a chapel at the top of a mountain praying day and night.
To be holy is to be separate…it is to be distinct. Leviticus 19 equates holiness with righteous and ethical living. Holiness has a purpose, it is about treating other people the way God would have us treat them and seeing within them the image of God that we believe is in us. Holiness means that the people of God, as part of God’s family, are held to a higher standard of behavior than anyone else because God is holy and we are to reflect this divine attribute.
But what is this higher standard of behavior? Many people believe that Christian life means that we abstain from things. But simple abstention is not what Leviticus 19 or I are talking about. Let me highlight three areas or ethical behaviors which I believe are necessary to be holy that I think are problem areas for us today.
In verses 9 and 10 we are told that as we go about our regular routines of life, in this case harvesting crops, we should be intentional about helping the poor. How many of our regular life practices are designed with the poor in mind? Whole facets of our society have been built to get away from the poor (and others) – we call them suburbs. We rationalize the separation by saying that suburban life is best for our families – crime is lower and schools are better out here. I am sure that we are all possessed of the best of intentions. We likely never intentionally decided that we would live here to be away from certain types of people. However, the truth is that we unwittingly participate in the process of keeping people in poverty by living in the suburbs (much could be said here about the connection between white flight, the culprit behind the ‘burbs, and the poverty of the city). The ease and comfort of the suburbs have lulled us into forgetting the poor (and others), the very people to whom, as Jesus said, belongs the kingdom of God. Do we have to have to move into the city to be holy? No. But we must intentionally engage with those areas that are historically poor and marginalized if we are going to be holy. To be holy means to take care of the poor.
A second area of ethical concern from the text comes from vs. 32, where we are told to rise before the aged and defer to the old. Sometimes, in our society, the elderly are perceived as an unbearable burden. Like the poor, elderly people are put out of our sight (thank you nursing homes), and frequently out of our mind. It is sad to me that even the church, which has received specific instructions from the New Testament writers about honoring our elders, champions the cause of the young over the old. Young people speak of the elders as hampering our new and exciting agenda and holding us back. Church programs are designed to attract youth because there is at least an implied idea that somehow young people are better for church growth than not-so-young people. But as Christians, we are challenged to come up with clear and unwavering commitments to honor our elders—for our holiness sake, and for the Lord's.
Before moving to the third area of ethical concern, let me mention vs. 18 and the familiar command to love neighbor as self. The treatment of the neighbor says more about one's theological commitments than any ecclesial confession. Indeed, how one defines who is one’s neighbor reveals the kind of God in whom one believes. Racism, sexism, and homophobia are theological issues because conforming to such prejudices hinders us from viewing those of other races, genders, and sexual orientations as neighbors. I have highlighted 2 areas of concern for the church today – the poor and aged. But they are only examples of a far-reaching problem within today’s church. Christians have gotten it into our heads that we get to choose who we are going to treat with respect and who we will not; who is worthy of the gospel and who is not; who bears the image of God and who does not. Leviticus 19 and the New Testament which relies upon it do not afford us this luxury. It is no wonder that Jesus, Paul, and James all appropriate this statement from Leviticus 19:18 as being fundamental to what it means to live as a Christian.
This is why many of the commands in chapters 18-20 end with the phrase “I am the Lord,” or “I am the Lord your God.” This phrase recalls to the mind the broader context of Israel's relationship with God. The God who speaks to Israel is the God who has already faithfully and redemptively acted on Israel's behalf: "I am the Lord your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt" (v. 36). By placing these instructions in the context of deliverance, the writer understands them not as the arbitrary dictates of power for power's sake, but as the practices that will continue and extend the effects of God's redemptive presence among the people.
Finally, perhaps the most incendiary area of concern from Leviticus 19 comes from vs. 33, where we are told to love the aliens who live among us as ourselves. This has obvious relevance in America where a major political battle is being waged regarding what should be done with people who live here illegally. I make no claim to solve the political debate in our country. Let me just say this. How we treat someone or speak about someone must not be determined by that person’s legal or illegal status in our country. We might be tempted to say that this is another time and place and Israel did not have the problem of aliens in the land like we do. However, if you remember your Bible, Israel was not supposed to have any foreigner in the land at all so as to protect the purity of the people. Yet despite that fact, Israel was still told to treat the foreigner, the alien, the illegal alien as fellow citizens of Israel. What can we say about the foreigner who lives among us except this – we were once foreigners who lived in a strange land; we were once sinners, alienated from God, but in God’s love we were welcomed into the kingdom of God’s glory and grace and if we are to be holy then our hospitality must extend to those who are strangers in the land as well. In our time there is perhaps no other issue that will demonstrate what our theological commitments are than this one. The true test of ethics and holiness will be whether or not we can speak of and treat the immigrant among us, legal or otherwise, as neighbor.
There are many other things to be said about Leviticus 19. Let me end with this: holiness demands that we put the injustice perpetrated on Harriet Jacobs by her owner to rights. Let us demonstrate that a holy people will champion the cause of justice and equality because that is the cause of our holy God. If we would be the people that God calls us to be; if we would be followers and disciples of Christ then we must land on the side of justice and holiness for that is where Jesus is. And where Jesus goes, we will follow.
In 1861, Harriet Jacobs wrote the first slave narrative composed and published by an African American woman entitled “Incidents in the life of a slave girl.” This is what she wrote about her early childhood mistress:
“After a brief period of suspense, the will of my mistress was read, and we learned that she had bequeathed me to her sister's daughter, a child of five years old. So vanished our hopes. My mistress had taught me the precepts of God's Word: "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." "Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them." But I was her slave, and I supposed she did not recognize me as her neighbor. I would give much to blot out from my memory that one great wrong. As a child, I loved my mistress; and, looking back on the happy days I spent with her, I try to think with less bitterness of this act of injustice. While I was with her, she taught me to read and spell; and for this privilege, which so rarely falls to the lot of a slave, I bless her memory.”
I have no doubt that Ms. Jacobs’ mistress was a deeply religious woman. But like many that we come into contact with everyday, I am not sure she was really Christ’s disciple. For some reason, religion and discipleship are thought to be separate from each other – as if what we do on Sunday has nothing to do with what we do during the week. I suppose that the people of God have always tried to separate them; and I suppose the prophets of God have always tried bringing them back together, as they are brought together in Leviticus 19.
Leviticus 19:2 says – You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy. Following this bold declaration is a litany of laws that may seem unreasonably legalistic, authoritarian, and completely foreign to our worldview, but whose purpose, simply put, was to make God’s people holy.
What does it mean to be holy? Ubiquitous in both the Old and New Testaments, holiness sounds like a religious concern, not a discipleship one. The very word ‘holy’ tends to conjure into our minds images of cowled monks huddled in a chapel at the top of a mountain praying day and night.
To be holy is to be separate…it is to be distinct. Leviticus 19 equates holiness with righteous and ethical living. Holiness has a purpose, it is about treating other people the way God would have us treat them and seeing within them the image of God that we believe is in us. Holiness means that the people of God, as part of God’s family, are held to a higher standard of behavior than anyone else because God is holy and we are to reflect this divine attribute.
But what is this higher standard of behavior? Many people believe that Christian life means that we abstain from things. But simple abstention is not what Leviticus 19 or I are talking about. Let me highlight three areas or ethical behaviors which I believe are necessary to be holy that I think are problem areas for us today.
In verses 9 and 10 we are told that as we go about our regular routines of life, in this case harvesting crops, we should be intentional about helping the poor. How many of our regular life practices are designed with the poor in mind? Whole facets of our society have been built to get away from the poor (and others) – we call them suburbs. We rationalize the separation by saying that suburban life is best for our families – crime is lower and schools are better out here. I am sure that we are all possessed of the best of intentions. We likely never intentionally decided that we would live here to be away from certain types of people. However, the truth is that we unwittingly participate in the process of keeping people in poverty by living in the suburbs (much could be said here about the connection between white flight, the culprit behind the ‘burbs, and the poverty of the city). The ease and comfort of the suburbs have lulled us into forgetting the poor (and others), the very people to whom, as Jesus said, belongs the kingdom of God. Do we have to have to move into the city to be holy? No. But we must intentionally engage with those areas that are historically poor and marginalized if we are going to be holy. To be holy means to take care of the poor.
A second area of ethical concern from the text comes from vs. 32, where we are told to rise before the aged and defer to the old. Sometimes, in our society, the elderly are perceived as an unbearable burden. Like the poor, elderly people are put out of our sight (thank you nursing homes), and frequently out of our mind. It is sad to me that even the church, which has received specific instructions from the New Testament writers about honoring our elders, champions the cause of the young over the old. Young people speak of the elders as hampering our new and exciting agenda and holding us back. Church programs are designed to attract youth because there is at least an implied idea that somehow young people are better for church growth than not-so-young people. But as Christians, we are challenged to come up with clear and unwavering commitments to honor our elders—for our holiness sake, and for the Lord's.
Before moving to the third area of ethical concern, let me mention vs. 18 and the familiar command to love neighbor as self. The treatment of the neighbor says more about one's theological commitments than any ecclesial confession. Indeed, how one defines who is one’s neighbor reveals the kind of God in whom one believes. Racism, sexism, and homophobia are theological issues because conforming to such prejudices hinders us from viewing those of other races, genders, and sexual orientations as neighbors. I have highlighted 2 areas of concern for the church today – the poor and aged. But they are only examples of a far-reaching problem within today’s church. Christians have gotten it into our heads that we get to choose who we are going to treat with respect and who we will not; who is worthy of the gospel and who is not; who bears the image of God and who does not. Leviticus 19 and the New Testament which relies upon it do not afford us this luxury. It is no wonder that Jesus, Paul, and James all appropriate this statement from Leviticus 19:18 as being fundamental to what it means to live as a Christian.
This is why many of the commands in chapters 18-20 end with the phrase “I am the Lord,” or “I am the Lord your God.” This phrase recalls to the mind the broader context of Israel's relationship with God. The God who speaks to Israel is the God who has already faithfully and redemptively acted on Israel's behalf: "I am the Lord your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt" (v. 36). By placing these instructions in the context of deliverance, the writer understands them not as the arbitrary dictates of power for power's sake, but as the practices that will continue and extend the effects of God's redemptive presence among the people.
Finally, perhaps the most incendiary area of concern from Leviticus 19 comes from vs. 33, where we are told to love the aliens who live among us as ourselves. This has obvious relevance in America where a major political battle is being waged regarding what should be done with people who live here illegally. I make no claim to solve the political debate in our country. Let me just say this. How we treat someone or speak about someone must not be determined by that person’s legal or illegal status in our country. We might be tempted to say that this is another time and place and Israel did not have the problem of aliens in the land like we do. However, if you remember your Bible, Israel was not supposed to have any foreigner in the land at all so as to protect the purity of the people. Yet despite that fact, Israel was still told to treat the foreigner, the alien, the illegal alien as fellow citizens of Israel. What can we say about the foreigner who lives among us except this – we were once foreigners who lived in a strange land; we were once sinners, alienated from God, but in God’s love we were welcomed into the kingdom of God’s glory and grace and if we are to be holy then our hospitality must extend to those who are strangers in the land as well. In our time there is perhaps no other issue that will demonstrate what our theological commitments are than this one. The true test of ethics and holiness will be whether or not we can speak of and treat the immigrant among us, legal or otherwise, as neighbor.
There are many other things to be said about Leviticus 19. Let me end with this: holiness demands that we put the injustice perpetrated on Harriet Jacobs by her owner to rights. Let us demonstrate that a holy people will champion the cause of justice and equality because that is the cause of our holy God. If we would be the people that God calls us to be; if we would be followers and disciples of Christ then we must land on the side of justice and holiness for that is where Jesus is. And where Jesus goes, we will follow.
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