Pentecost 17A – Reformation Series Week 1
October 1, 2017
Exodus 17:1-7; 1 Corinthians 12:12-27; Matthew
20:20-28
Let me ask you: how would you define
holy?
I think this
is a really hard question. I’ve tried to define it, in various settings, but
I’ve never been entirely satisfied with the result. So, when I was putting
together this October series focusing on a different Reformation theme each
week leading up to the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, and I decided
that today’s theme would be, “Church is Messy and Holy,” I really had to think
about it. Does anyone want to take a stab at it? What makes something “holy”?
Okay, well
then I’m going to put that part on hold for now, and focus instead of the first
part of today’s theme: the Church is Messy. This is a reality of which we are
all too familiar, even as we might try to deny it. I haven’t been a pastor for
very long yet, but I’ll tell you, every time any conflict arises, or someone
acts in a way someone else doesn’t like, I hear the same refrain: “Shouldn’t
people who claim to be Christians act better than this?” It’s also a refrain I
hear frequently from people outside the church, as a reason for them not to be
involved: “Christians are hypocrites,” they say. “They claim to be all about
love, but instead, they are mean and judgmental.”
People both in and out of the Church,
it seems, have an expectation that when you are a part of the Church of Christ,
you should have it together, be loving and kind, and never make a mistake.
It’s not a realistic expectation.
God’s people were never perfect. Just look at today’s story from Exodus. This
is a part of the 40 years in the wilderness narrative, which is characterized
by God’s chosen people relentlessly grumbling and complaining, blaming Moses
for their woes, and not appreciating the many ways that God provides. (I mean
really, water out of a rock? That’s pretty cool!) But isn’t that just how
people are, whether believers or not? We complain, we blame, we don’t examine
our own hearts, we don’t take the time to be grateful, we miss God’s gracious
love in our lives.
You could fast forward a few thousand
years and see more of human nature in our Gospel reading: two men try to take a
higher position than their cohorts, believing themselves to be better or more
important. Don’t we always want to get ahead? My friends, all of this – the
complaining, the blaming, the self-centeredness, the overlooking of God’s grace
– all of it is human nature, and no church membership will take that away. And
so, the Church, like all human institutions, is messy.
The Church is also messy because it is
made up of people who are so different from each other. Often we lift up these
differences as “gifts” – we all have different gifts to offer, and each of
those gifts contributes to the body of Christ, like Paul writes in today’s
lesson from Corinthians. It’s a lovely way to see it, and I believe it is true…
but we also know that differences can be a real challenge. We have different
life experiences, political persuasions, values, ages, incomes, needs – and all
these differences can be the cause of any number of issues that arise between
us. And yet, we still come here and join together as one Church. And sometimes,
issues do indeed arise. And so, the Church is messy. In fact, sometimes, the
Church – and the people in it – is more than messy. Sometimes, it is broken.
But this is where that second part comes
back in: the Church is messy, but the Church is also holy. Or as Luther would
say it, we are all sinners, but at the same time, we are also saints. So let me
ask you again: having spent some time thinking about how messy the Church is,
how would you define the Church also as holy?
Here’s an illustration: if you are on
social media, you may have noticed that people don’t tend to post pictures of
their worst moments, unless it is for comic effect. You would never publicly post
about a fight you had with your spouse, or about your child’s bad day at
school, or your financial problems. Instead, we post about the best moments,
trying to give the world a sense not of our brokenness, but of our wholeness,
right? Well, turns out, not always. There are some who push against this norm,
and instead try to reframe the perceived imperfections of their lives. Like,
posting a picture of their living room cluttered with toys and unfolded laundry,
and the family sitting together and smiling on the couch with the caption, “Perfection.”
Perfection? I don’t know about that.
That’s not typically how I describe my
living room, anyway! But, I might call that holy. Because I think that holiness
is when, into the brokenness of human life, there is also an in-breaking of
love, and compassion, and bonding, and connection. It is when, even in places
you might not think to look, God is present. And that is also something that
happens – you guessed it – in the Church.
You come to
worship hopeless and dejected, but in the scripture that day you hear a word of
hope. The sermon seems to have been written just for you, providing the salve
you needed.
Your friend is
very sick, and feeling scared and losing hope that she will ever recover. You
visit her, lift her spirits, and you hold hands and you pray together. As you
finish the prayer, you see tears forming in your friend’s eyes, and you know
that some level of healing has occurred.
You watch
the news in horror as you see places in this country devastated by hurricanes.
You come together with fellow believers and put aside all your differences to
work together to fill flood cleanup buckets and hygiene kits to help those in
need.
You limp
forward to the altar – your bad hip is acting up again – and someone comes to
hold your hand so you don’t fall. Side-by-side you receive the bread of life
and the wine of salvation.
You have
behaved in a way of which you are not proud. You felt you were doing or saying
the right thing at the time, but have come to realize your words and actions
caused pain, not good. You come to worship and hear those words, “Your sins are
forgiven in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.” You are
restored.
All of these
moments in the Church's life are holy. And each of them
are what the Church is really about: it is about seeing and experiencing, in
the midst of the inevitable messiness and brokenness of life, that God is
indeed there, offering hope, forgiveness, healing, and life.
Luther defines
the Church as the place where the gospel is purely preached. The gospel is
this: that you, in all your brokenness and messiness, are loved, forgiven,
restored, and valued by a God who gave everything for your sake. I can
certainly preach that message from the pulpit, and try to. But I think there is
more to the Church than that. There is this wonderful quote attributed to St.
Francis of Assisi. He says, “Preach the gospel at all times. When necessary,
use words.” You see, preaching the gospel is not just something that happens in
10-12 minutes on a Sunday morning. The real preaching of the gospel happens in
the movement of the Sprit in the believer’s heart, and the actions that spring
out of that movement. The real preaching happens when we see what Jesus tells
his disciples in today’s Gospel reading: “whoever wishes to be great among you
must be your servant,” he says, “and whoever wishes to be first among you must
be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve.” The
real preaching happens when you fill those flood buckets this afternoon, or
scrape paint off of a handicapped woman’s house, or when you pray with a friend
in need, or when you put your own needs and well-being aside for the sake of
someone less fortunate than you. That is the Church. That is the gospel being
purely preached to the world. That is the oh-so-messy and broken, and yet still
so holy, Church.
Let us pray…
Lord Christ, we give you thanks for the
messiness of your Church, that it gives us a place to practice preaching and living
out your gospel. And we give thanks for the holiness of your Church, that it is
a place where we can come again and again to hear your life-giving word,
receive the sacraments, and learn to live a life of servanthood. In the name of
the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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