Sermon: Free indeed (Reformation, 2015)

Reformation Day

October 25, 2015

John 8:31-36

Grace to you and peace from God our Mighty Fortress and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

            Being a cancer survivor, a wife of someone who struggles with allergies, and now a mother of a young babe, I have gotten very interested the past couple years in cleaning. In particular, my interest is in the growing movement to “clean green,” trying to cut back on the barrage of chemicals we’ve grown accustomed to in cleaning and personal care products, but which often do more harm to our health than good. One article I recently read to this end was one on anti-bacterial soap and hand sanitizers. It outlined a history of hand cleanliness: did you know that when Dr. Ignaz Semmelweis suggested in the 1840s that washing hands before seeing each patient would decrease the spread of disease, he was ignored, ridiculed, rejected, and eventually admitted to an insane asylum? Of course now, washing hands is common sense and understood as the best way to prevent the spread of disease. Clean hands are so important, that today, 75% of liquid soaps include some anti-bacterial agent, and hand sanitizers are ubiquitous in purses, classrooms, doctor’s offices, and even church pews. We’ve taken the war on germs very seriously. But, this article went on to say, it turns out that our obsession with anti-bacterial hand-cleaning has had an undesired effect: it has weakened our immune systems, and created a “superbug,” a super resistant bacteria, not to mention exposed us to some dangerous chemicals along the way. As it turns out, plain old soap and water is still the best way to wash hands.

            I posted this article on Facebook, and a friend commented, “And another pendulum keeps swinging…” It’s true. Whether it is what current wisdom or research is recommending, or learning

that something we all were told was the best thing ever is actually harmful, or just the way we look at and understand something in our lives, it seems the world around us is a constantly swinging pendulum. Just when you get used to life one way, everything shifts.

            And so this week I have been thinking a lot about change, stagnancy and freedom. No one likes change – that is, no one likes it until we find ourselves in an uncomfortable or discouraging rut: a job that no longer challenges us, a relationship that does not bring us life, a way of living that drags us down. In these cases we may think that stagnancy is actually worse than change, but we don’t always have the courage to make the change that is necessary to break that stagnancy. We are held back by too much baggage, too much doubt, or too much fear. We are in some way enslaved by these things – our baggage, doubts, and fears – and we feel we lack the freedom to make the change we need.

            I wonder if that’s how people felt back in 1517, when Martin Luther famously took his stand regarding how the Church needed to change and reform? In the 95 theses Luther hammered to the church door on that October day, he noted the abuses the Church had engaged in, most notably the sale of indulgences that were allegedly required for people to get into heaven. Luther explained how unbiblical this was, how contrary to the gospel of forgiveness and eternal life. He preached that we are saved and justified not by our actions or the law, and certainly not by how much money we are able to pay (that is, we cannot buy our way into heaven). Rather, he preached that we are saved purely by God’s grace, apart from any works. As Paul writes in the passage we heard today from

Romans, “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.”

In other words, nothing you do or don’t do is grounds for you going to heaven or not; it doesn’t so much matter what you have done as what God has done through Christ. It was (and is!) a beautiful gospel of freedom, life, and forgiveness. Seems pretty good, right? And yet, the Church of the 16^th century resisted this truth. It was a change in what the Church had been teaching – a good, and more faithful change, but a change nonetheless. But the resistance to change, to reform, was so strong that Luther ended up spending his last years hidden away in a stone safe haven, for fear of his life. Like with our hand-washing doctor friend, what now seems like a common sense change for the better was resisted in favor of keeping the status quo.

            Well, it’s easy to look back at the 16^th century Church and say, “Wow, they really missed the boat on this one. Why would they be so resistant to such good news?” The gospel that Luther preached was one of liberation, one that released people from financial obligations they couldn’t afford, and emotional and spiritual baggage that was destructive to their relationship with God. Why would they reject that?

But honestly, even though it is this same interpretation of the gospel that I try to preach each week, we are all still resistant to it. The possibility that God’s grace could be more powerful than our shortcomings seems like a long shot. Even though we believe God to be all-powerful and the king of the universe, it is sometimes hard to accept that God’s grace and forgiveness extend even to us, that all of that baggage, that self-doubt, that fear that enslave us and keep us from moving forward, moving toward life and transformation, might in fact be powerless in the face of God’s love and grace. It is hard to accept that we could actually be free.

But imagine for a moment what that freedom might mean. Imagine that you are not riddled with self-doubt, and instead can trust that God loves you and is pleased with you. Imagine that whatever haunts you or hurts you from your past no longer matters, and instead you can trust that you are forgiven for all your past mistakes. Imagine that the expectations you put on yourself, and your frustrations over when you don’t meet those expectations, are no longer weighing on your shoulders, and instead you can live and rejoice in the knowledge that God has claimed you in baptism, redeemed you through Jesus Christ, and promises continual grace and life to you. If all that were true, what might you be able to do? How might you be able to be in the world? Unencumbered by all those things that enslave you, how would your life look?

It’s hard to grasp all that! It all seems too good to be true. But friends, it is true. God has given all of this to us. The Son has made us free, and we are free indeed – free from doubts, fears, frustrations, burdens, sins, and all that would enslave us and keep us from living the life that God intends for us. Free to make the changes we need to make in order to live life more fully. We are free. Tell yourself in the morning. Tell yourself at lunchtime. Tell yourself before bed: “I am free. God loves me and forgives me when I fall short, and I am free to live a life that reflects my God of grace.” Thanks be to God!

Let us pray… God of grace, we are so often held back and enslaved by our fears and doubts. But you are a God of freedom! Guide us to live in that freedom – freedom for love, freedom for joy, freedom for service. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Looking for power in all in the wrong places (Oct. 18, 2015)

Pentecost 21B

October 18, 2015

Mark 10:35-45

            I don’t normally follow politics very closely, but like many Americans, I suddenly become very interested when we are nearing a presidential election. In these years, I soak it up: I read about candidates’ policies, I listen with interest as Michael tells me what the latest polls are saying (he’s sort of an election nerd), I watch debates and read the commentaries afterward. All this is very interesting… but one thing I really hate about election season is how the candidates’ hunger for power turns into mudslinging, lies, speaking poorly about everyone else and generally doing whatever it takes to get ahead. There are some candidates in particular this season who seem only to dwell on how great, powerful, and successful they are and how terrible everyone else is, often making low blows to people’s character and even their appearance in the process. Maybe this tactic works for

2016 Presidential candidates

some voters, but I find for me, it leaves a really bad taste in my mouth.

            Politics is often like this, though, isn’t it? And especially for a presidential election, the stakes are so high because so much power is involved, and the result is even more power-mongering behavior than usual. And with media – both traditional media and social media – we are even more aware of this behavior. But the truth is that even outside of high stakes politics, we see this sort of thing all the time. People crave power and prestige. We may not crave power over such a large jurisdiction as the President of the United States has, but we certainly crave and seek it in our own realms. We seek power over our own lives and what direction they will go; we seek it over the lives of our friends and families (I have learned this in a new way as I try to have some control over how my daughter will be raised and influenced!); and we seek it over our surroundings.

            And there are lots of tactics we may take to find that power and prestige. We might do it like some presidential candidates, by speaking poorly about others so that we look better, blowing out someone else’s proverbial candle in hopes of making our own shine more brightly. We might do it by making lots of money, looking for the highest paying job, or spending extra hours at the one we have, so that we will have more, more, more. Then with that money, we can also buy tokens that put our power and success on display – a nice car, designer clothes, a cool phone, a big house – so that others will see that we are successful, and so we are powerful. We might do it through our kids, urging them toward certain activities and doing well at them so that it reflects well back on us. We might do it by

surrounding ourselves with people who we know rely on us for advice and sage council, because feeling wise makes us feel powerful. There are so many ways we seek power and prestige, and often they are disguised as something noble (like wanting your kid to do well, or living in a comfortable home), but really, when we dig down deep, we find that we want to look good, and have status among those in our circles. After all, who wants to be at the bottom of the heap?

            That’s what happened to James and John in our Gospel lesson today. Maybe the reason they asked Jesus to appoint them places of honor at his right hand and his left seemed to them on the surface to be noble. Maybe they told themselves that from these powerful positions, they would be able to help others the way Jesus was always doing. But I have a hunch that really, they just wanted that sense of power. They knew Jesus was special, and wanted to ensure that when he truly came into power, they would be right there with him, having secured their spots early on. And who among us wouldn’t want the same?

            Of course, James and John have their tactic all wrong. They should know better – they have been following Jesus for a while now, and have heard him say that the way to greatness is not through political gain or positions of power. They have watched him heal and teach and serve and hang out with the lowliest in society. Just before this, Jesus told them – two different times – to enter the kingdom of God like a little child, like the weakest, most vulnerable members of society. But

since they still don’t seem to get it, he tells them here again, in no uncertain terms: the way toward greatness is not through power-seeking in the traditional sense, but rather, through service. He says, “whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave to all.”

The language is clear; but the meaning is difficult. It goes so much against the grain, against what our culture around us urges us to do. Be great by being weak? What if one of our presidential candidates stood up at a debate and said in his opening statement, “Listen guys, I don’t have a lot of influence. I’m not that powerful, nor do I aspire to be. I don’t have a lot of money. But I can offer you this: my dedication to serving you, listening to you and especially to those who are most in need in this country, and to do everything I can to treat you with respect and to show you what love looks like.” I would love to vote for that candidate, but if we’re being honest, such a candidate would be eaten alive! Everyone would doubt that this person actually has the gumption to get the job done. We are accustomed to looking up to people who can assert their power, not admit weakness!

And yet, as Jesus goes on to say, being great by being a weak is exactly the sort of power that Jesus demonstrates when he “gives his life as a ransom for many.” There is nothing strong or powerful about a man hanging on a cross. Yet it is by these means that Christ conquered death and offered to us eternal life. There is nothing outwardly strong or powerful about a baby at a font, or a humble meal of bread and wine, but these are the means by which Christ brings us into this eternal life, this body of Christ. Being a follower of Christ does indeed mean giving up the illusion of power.

This is why I find tithing to be such a powerful practice. Now, I by no means give enough to relinquish all power (we are still able to live quite comfortably and put money in savings and retirement). But tithing each month serves as a regular reminder that my power does not come from my money.

This is also why I appreciate pledge cards. I think pledge cards are somewhat misunderstood. It’s true that they serve a practical purpose – they help our council have a sense of what will be coming in during the year so that we can make a balanced budget. But for me, their purpose is more spiritual. You see, money and faith are intimately connected; there is a reason Jesus talks in the Bible

more about wealth than anything else other than the kingdom of God. And so filling out this card each year is my chance to take that faith/money connection seriously, to consider my finances and make a goal – just like I might make a goal to pray more intentionally, or read the Bible more – a goal that will bring me closer to Christ and help me remember that my power does not come from what’s in my bank account. By writing it down, I am making myself accountable to that goal. If I happen to fall short, it’s okay – the church isn’t going to hunt me down looking for that money – but having made the goal, I can get myself back on track.

Sometimes, I admit, I don’t want to meet my pledge. I don’t want to relinquish that power. There have been a couple months when we had big expenses, and I thought, “You know, the church wouldn’t really miss it if I just knocked $100 off my tithe this month, but it would sure help us…” but then I remember that my giving is not so much about what the church needs as it is about my own spiritual growth, about being willing to give up some of the perceived power that I find in having money and learning instead to trust God. In some small way, it helps me to understand what it means to be a humble servant who strives toward self-sacrificial giving, just like Jesus did for me.

This is the season when we think about what we will give in the coming year. I pray that as you consider this, you will not think about it in terms of what the church needs in order to function, but rather about how your gift can help you to grow in faith and in trust. May we all seek the power that comes not from wealth and prestige, but from humble servant-hood and from the one who gave his whole life for our sake.

Let us pray… Lord of all, we often strive to feel powerful in ways that only offer us a false sense of security. Give us faith to seek the power that comes from you, and give us strength to use that power to serve one another in humility. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.