The gifts of a reformation people...

NOTE: Here are my sermon notes for this coming week, Sunday, October 25, 2009. As you can see I am taking a week off from my reflecitons on emptiness and darkness to give some time to the on-going truth of my Reformed tradition. Not perfect, but sill important. Stop by if you are in town as I would love to visit with you.

Peter Gomes, pastor of the chapel at Yale Divinity School and one of this nation’s finest preachers, tells a story of celebrating Reformation Sunday in his hometown of Plymouth, Massachusetts. In the cradle of the congregational way – at the birthing center of the Reformed tradition in America – Gomes recalls that the best thing most preachers could say on Reformation Sunday – our celebration of the spiritual movement initiated by Martin Luther and the Holy Spirit in 1516 – was that we Protestants were not Catholic.

“On the last Sunday in October,” Gomes writes, “Protestants gathered together to celebrate the fact that a Protestant was not a Roman Catholic. Although Reformation Sunday was meant to affirm the inheritance of a reformed and evangelical Protestantism, with a particular emphasis upon the contributions of Martin Luther, more often than not… it was an exercise in affirming the negative. Like the Pharisee in the story of the Pharisee and the Publican, we rejoiced that we were not like those others--that is, like Catholics.”

+ Which means that just as the Pharisee got what he prayed for in his empty negativity – precisely nothing because that is what he asked for – so, too, with our negative definition of Reformed spirituality: for you see, “an identity that continues to define itself by what it is not is in an increasing state of crisis.” (Gomes)

+ So what do we stand for, beloved, and why does our way of being Christ’s church matter – especially at this moment in time?

Let me offer three insights this morning that may be helpful – three clues about what the Reformed charism brings to the world that deepens and strengthens the cause of Christ in our generation – ok? For while there are other truths, to be sure, and other traditions that are equally faithful to God, these three are critical and deserve our close consideration as heirs of the Reformation.

+ But before I share my three positive observations, let me ask you a basic question: what do you know about the founding father of the Protestant tradition?

+ Tell me what you recall about the life and contribution of Martin Luther and the heart of his ministry, ok?

Here is an all too brief summary highlighting a few of the essentials:

+ Martin Luther was a Roman Catholic priest and monastic of the Augustinian order. He was a gifted preacher and teacher in Germany who was obsessed with pleasing God. In fact, it is likely that he entered the monastery in fear rather than joy, believing that if he fasted longer and prayed harder than anyone else, God’s love would fill him and heal him of all his fears. It didn’t…
+ Which, of course, drove Luther into deeper despair and a more profound search for the promise of God’s love; eventually, he discovered the writing of St. Paul in the Bible and began to see that God’s forgiveness and healing are given to us as gifts – grace – never as a reward for enduring harsh fasts or suffering through hours of prayer.

In time Luther began to question all of the outward practices of his medieval faith which put him into conflict first with his monastic superiors and eventually with Rome and the Pope. To make a long story short, Luther began to teach that God’s free gift of forgiveness and grace had to become the heart of Christianity – not tradition or the authority of Rome – which created a painful and prolonged schism in the Church. Luther was eventually banished – excommunicated by Rome – and only then did he start a new denomination built on the three insights I want to consider with you today:

+ At the heart of this new tradition was a commitment to the presence of God’s grace along the way of the Cross.

+ At the soul of this new tradition was a style of worship grounded in the vernacular where preaching took place in the common tongue of ordinary working people and hymns and music borrowed freely from popular culture.

+ And in the mind of this new tradition was a radical trust that because everyone had part to play in discerning God’s wisdom, no one could have a monopoly upon the truth or authority.
Are you with me? Theologically he emphasized grace and the cross, liturgically he embraced the ordinary and the importance of biblical interpretation and organizationally he advocated democracy and equality in decision-making –truths that still have meaning for us today.

+ In fact, we have affirmed these truths anew in our mission statement that reads: “In community with God and each other we gather to worship, to reflect on our Christian faith, to do justice and to share compassion.”

+ These, to my mind, are the gifts we bring into the world as people of the Reformation. Other traditions know these gifts, too, and I would never be so arrogant as to say that we have a monopoly upon God’s wisdom. And yet Reformation people do have a unique and distinctive way of giving these gifts shape and form.

Let me emphasize what I mean by grappling with the words of grace in Jeremiah who said:

The time is coming when I will make a brand-new covenant with Israel and Judah. It won't be a repeat of the covenant I made with their ancestors when I took their hand to lead them out of the land of Egypt…. No this brand-new covenant that I will make with them is different: I will put my law within them—write it on their hearts!—and I will be their God and they will be my people. They will no longer go around setting up schools to teach each other about God. They'll know me firsthand, the dull and the bright, the smart and the slow. And I'll wipe the slate clean for each of them forgetting they ever sinned! Listen – for this is God's Decree!

With an emphasis on grace, we begin by affirming that there are a variety of ways to respond to God. Did you hear that? That is often the minority report when it comes to religion: there are a variety of ways to respond to God. Not ONE way, not one TRUE and time-tested way, but a variety of ways for our expression of the Reformed tradition practices religious tolerance. George Hunsinger, another wise soul from Yale Divinity School, speaks of our perspective like this in the current Christian Century:

Some believers practice “enclave theology” which teaches that there is a single tradition that is true and has little to no interest in other traditions when it comes to defeating or withstanding them. In contrast, “ecumenical theology” presumes that every tradition in the church has something valuable to contribute even though we may not be able to discern at the present time what that may be. Ecumenical theology does not assume that we can make traditions agree by forcing artificial agreements, but rather seeks deeper unity in which all traditions are faithful to Christ. And then in contrast to both of these there is an “academic theology” that has no allegiance to any tradition or to norms such as those established in our creeds and statements of faith.

One very conscious commitment of our tradition – a boldly ecumenical tradition – has to do with searching for God’s grace amidst the divisions in the church and the world. How do we put it? “Whoever you are – and wherever you are – on life’s journey, there is a place for you here.”

Consequently, when reading Jeremiah in this light we note that there is one very old and time-tested way of responding to God that creates a check list – a collection of helpful and wise rules – so that people can live with integrity and compassion. In some ways that is how we have come to understand the 10 Commandments and the Law of Israel: when God graciously brought our ancestors out of the bondage of slavery, their response was to construct a rule of life that helped people share God’s justice and generosity.

The Law, you see, is about pointing people in the right direction so that every act of life can be a part of the Lord’s beautiful commitment to freedom and justice that was first experienced and expressed in the Exodus, ok? A rule of life, therefore, is one way of living faithfully in response to God’s grace. It is the older way – not replaced or outdated or superseded – just older, time-tested and practical.

The new way – or new covenant – is different: not better just better for some. And while it still values the ethics of the Old Covenant and teaches believers that the goal of our faith is still to love God and honor our neighbors as God’s chosen people, our checklist is no longer out there on a tablet of stone or a catechism or rule of life. Now we sense that God has written the law of creation on our hearts so that from the inside out we can make God’s will flesh.

Are you with me on this distinction? We start in here – with the heart – which in the Hebraic tradition is both the center of the intellect and the core of the will. So the new covenant is not about feelings and emotions nor rules and traditions: our Reformed take on this new covenant has to do with giving shape and form to the forgiveness of God that we first experienced within.

I think that is what Jesus consistently teaches: my way does not look backwards nor is it obsessed with tradition. The past and our rules of life have their place; we can appeal to relatives and descendants, too; but disciples are made and formed and shaped not born. The privilege of birth has nothing to do with faithfulness.

In his argument with those who had started to follow him but were wavering as recorded in John’s gospel for today, Jesus was explicit: the old ways have their wisdom, but the power and truth of living forgiveness is how the new covenant works. So if you join this new movement you can be jumping back to the old ways – it doesn’t work – either you are in or you are out. And if you are in, please understand that it is not easier even if it has been simplified. “All I can tell you,” Jesus seems to conclude, “is that the way of forgiveness will set you free to live as God’s chosen people.”

In one of my favorite devotional books, The Empty Manger, Walter Wangerin tells the story of how his young son used to steal comic books. Now Wangerin was an inner city preacher and everybody in his small church used to watch his children like hawks to see if they were people of integrity. And having been in that situation myself, I can tell you that as a young preacher caught up in the often harsh judgments of God’s people, he felt like he had to try everything to cure his son from stealing – but nothing worked. It can be a fishbowl experience.

Well, for three years as young Matthew grew from 7 to 8 to 9 years of age Wangerin gave it his best shot. But finally, exasperated and uncertain of what to do next, he spanked his child. Hard and in real frustration he spanked his son which Wangerin writes forced him to run out of the room and weep his own tears.

“I fled the room crying” he writes, “ but Matthew didn't cry. To be sure Matthew did finally stop stealing from that day onward, but it wasn't because of the law or the punishment. Listen to how he puts it next:

What wasn’t true, however, was how I thought the change had occurred in my son. I thought it was the spanking. I thought the law had done it. Well, the law can do many things, of course. It can frighten a child till his eyes go wide. It can restrain him and blame him and shame him, surely. But it cannot change him.
So it was with Israel. So it is with all the people of God. So it was with Matthew. Mercy alone transfigures the human heart – mercy, which takes a human face. For this is the final truth of my story: Years after that spanking, Matthew and his mother were driving home from the shopping center.

They were discussing things that had happened in the past and the topic of comic books came up. They talked of how he used to steal them, and of how long the practice continued. Matthew said, “But you know, Mom, I haven’t stolen comic books for a long, long time.” His mother said, “I know.” She drew the word out for gratitude: “I knoooow.” Matthew mused a moment, then said, “Do you know why I stopped the stealing?” “Sure,” said his mother. “Because Dad spanked you.”

“No, Mom,” said Matthew, my son, the child of my heart. He shook his head at his mother’s mistake. “No,” he said, “I stopped but because Dad cried.” Hereafter, let every accuser of my son reckon with the mercy of God, and fall into a heap, and fail.

For love accomplished what the law could not, and tears are more powerful than Sinai. Even the Prince of Accusers shall bring no charge against my son that the Final judge shall not dismiss.

Satan, you are defeated! My God has loved my Matthew. Do you know why I stopped the stealing? Sure. Because Dad spanked you. No, Mom. No. It’s because Dad cried. (Wangerin, pp.131-132)

The gifts of our Reformed tradition are forged in forgiveness – and grace – and a common brokenness that needs one another in our search for God. Pray with me now as my partners in music share a tune born of the very heart of the Reformation…

credits: peter gomes @ google images; reformation stained glass @ spring valley united methodist church, dallas, texas; the soul project @ www.vanessanoheart.net/soulproject.php;%20the katrina project @thekatrinacollectionbylorikgordon.blogspot.com/; art and soul project @ mistymawn.typepad.com/my_weblog/2009/05/art-soul-va.html; marc chagall, "clown" @ artinvestment.ru/en/news/

exhibitions/20090611_russian_avantgarde_in_geneva.html; gary powell, "rhapsody of the soul shadow" @ www.garypowell.com/blogs/ category/shows/rhapsody-of-the
soul/