Sermon: Continue in sin? By no means. (June 21, 2020)

Pentecost 3A

June 21, 2020

Romans 6:1b-11

Matthew 10:24-39

INTRODUCTION

         I mentioned last week that now that we are into the season of Pentecost, the focus of our assigned readings each week turns to the work and life of the Church, now enlivened by the Holy Spirit. I believe I even complained a little bit that our start into this reflection on our role as the Church in the world was not a gentle one, with some pretty steep demands from Jesus. Hate to tell you – this week isn’t any easier!

         Jeremiah starts us off by lamenting the difficulty of his call as a prophet. He is laughed at, mocked, and reproached all day long, he says, and whenever he wants to give up, saying, “Forget it, God! You’re on your own!” it feels like a fire is in his bones. He must do the Lord’s work. But all the while, he knows, God is with him “like a dread warrior,” so he knows the enemy will not win. In Romans, Paul will simultaneously convict us and lift us up, telling us that just because we have God’s grace does not mean we get to “let sin abound.” His phrase, “By no means!” is an emphatic one (I imagine an inflection of, “Come on, what are you thinking??”). Our Gospel reading is the continuation of last week’s speech to those Jesus is sending out, with continued warnings about the violence and division that may happen as a result of this mission. “I have not come to bring peace, but a sword,” he says. The text comes off as sort of piecemeal, like an unrelated collection of sayings of Jesus that he wants to be sure to get out there… which almost makes the warnings even more jarring to take in.

         So no, today’s texts are not easy, but they do also offer plenty of hope. As you listen today, listen for that hope. Hear the difficulty that comes with a genuine life of faith, but listen to the ways that God provides in that journey. Let’s listen.

[READ]

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

         This past week marked anniversaries of a couple of significant events, both old and modern, in the history of Black people in our country. On Friday, June 19^th, we celebrated Juneteenth, the anniversary of the day in 1865 when slaves in Texas finally learned of the Emancipation Proclamation that President Lincoln had made two and a half years prior. Upon learning of their sudden freedom, there was great joy and jubilation. Fast forward 150 years: on Wednesday was the 5^th anniversary of the Charleston shooting, when a young white man (who was, incidentally, raised in an ELCA church) walked into a Bible study at Mother Emanuel AME Church and, after joining them for Bible study, shot nine people while they prayed. 150 years after slavery ended, this level of animosity toward Black people in America was still, horrifically, on display.

         These two anniversaries, and in the midst of continuing unrest and conversation about race in our country, were on my mind when I read today’s assigned texts. And when I read Romans 6, it was like a punch in the gut. “Shall we continue in sin in order that grace may abound?” Paul asks. “By no means!!” I thought of Pastor Jim Wallis calling racism America’s “original sin.” I thought of how many people (myself included) I have heard insist, “I’m not racist!” but who also do nothing to counter the all-too-real reality of racism that still exists in our country, and in fact, even aim to deny it exists at all. And I thought of the conversations I have had with my husband this week, in which we have both said, “I’m done being quiet about this. It’s past time to speak up.” Shall we continue in sin in order that grace may abound? By. No. Means.

         And yet, as much as I long now (finally) to do something about the way racism is expressed in our country, this adamant statement from Paul that opens our reading today convicts me again and again. Because the truth is, I have for many years “continued in sin in order that grace may abound” – on this issue and frankly, in several other ways. Because the thing is: change is hard. Changing our ways is hard. And so sometimes we’d rather keep living the way we have always lived because that is the path of least resistance. So we may continue to see the effects of racism, but assume it is not our problem to fix; or continue to see the brokenness in one of our relationships but hold onto the grudge because it makes us feel powerful and forgiveness seems impossible; or continue to engage in habits we know are not good for our bodies, but they offer us a brief escape. Often, if we’re honest, we would rather continue in sin, because the way of sin is what we have known. Sometimes, rather than change anything, we instead start to convince ourselves that our behavior isn’t really sin. “I deserve a break, so I’ll just pop open another bottle of wine,” we say. “He really hurt me, so he deserves what is coming to him,” we tell ourselves. “Oh, that is such a shame that this racist thing happened, but what am I supposed to do about it? I’m not racist! I’m not the problem!”

         We started off our service this morning as we often do, with a prayer of confession. “We have sinned against you in thought, word and deed,” we prayed,
“by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.” This second part, these things “left undone,” is why I feel so convicted by Paul’s words this week. For too long, I have lived blissfully unaware of race issues. In these past few years, as I’ve become more aware, I have made an effort to learn and educate myself on the issue. And so at this point, having now learned about the history and present of this issue, and about some ways that I can be a part of the solution rather than a passive observer, now for me not to act makes me a part of the problem, because I’m knowingly allowing it to persist. It becomes one of those things “we have left undone.”

         Ibram X. Kendi says as much in his book, How to be an Anti-racist. He defines the difference between “not racist” and “anti-racist.” He writes, “What’s the problem with being ‘not racist’? It is a claim that signifies neutrality: ‘I am not a racist, but neither am I aggressively against racism.’ But there is no neutrality in the racism struggle. The opposite of ‘racist’ isn’t ‘not racist.’ It is ‘anti-racist.’” In other words, to be a passive observer is to tacitly support something that we know is hurting our brothers and sisters in Christ. It’s like watching my 4yo beat up on my 3yo and saying, “Well I would never pinch him, and I don’t think she should either,” but not doing anything to intervene.

According to Martin Luther’s Catechism, this is breaking the 5^th commandment. In his explanation in the Large Catechism, he writes, “Under this commandment not only he is guilty who does evil to his neighbor, but he also who can do him good, prevent, resist evil, defend and save him, so that no bodily harm or hurt happen to him, and yet does not do it.” You see? If we see there is something that we can be doing that would prevent harm from coming upon our neighbor, and yet we do not do it, then we have sinned. By standing back and refusing to change our ways that have tacitly supported brokenness by insisting we are not a part of the problem, we are “continuing in sin in order that grace may abound.”

Now, will God forgive us for our resistance to move away from behaviors that harm ourselves and others of God’s children, or at least that allow harm to occur? Of course God will forgive us. That’s not in question. But, Paul says, Christ died for us specifically so that we would not continue engaging in such behaviors, or neglecting to move toward healthier and more faithful ones! “How can we who have died to sin go on living in it?” he asks. How can we who have been baptized – in essence, gone into the watery tomb with Christ and then been raised to life again with him – how can we even think of still trying to live in the land of sin? Christ died to get us out of there!

         Of course I know how we can even think of living in the land of sin: because it can be incredibly daunting to live elsewhere. Something bad but known seems safer than something unknown. Taking the first step is hard, sometimes the second step is even harder. Moving out of sin and into life is not the path of least resistance, because it takes a lot of self-reflection and facing of realities in ourselves and the world around us that we would rather not face. No one feels good recognizing that they have said or done something that unintentionally hurt someone else. No one likes having to face their own racism, or their own brokenness, or their own shortcomings.

Jesus anticipates this. He warns us that this won’t be easy. This is what he means when he says we need to lose our life for his sake in order to find it. We need to lose all those “things done and things left undone” that have held us and our fellow humans back in sin, back from living into the life that Christ died to give us. We need to lose our apathy and passive endorsement of racist structures. We need to lose our anger at someone who hurt us in our past and it still jades our view of the world today. We need to lose our fear that we are somehow not enough to do the work that Christ calls us to. Once we can lose all of that, we will find the true life the Jesus promises us. Once we lose that life of sin, we are promised that “we too might walk in newness of life.”

         Let us pray… God of life, you call us to leave behind our sinful ways, but the difficulty of this sometimes leaves us paralyzed and content with continuing along the path of least resistance. Make us courageous enough to move toward the life you died to secure for us. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.