are my worship notes for Sunday, August 29, 2010. This return to First Church will be particularly sweet as we are also sharing the music of the South African Freedom Mass during Eucharist. So, dear friends, if you are around I would love if you might join us.The incomparable Mark Twain is reported to have once said, “It’s not what you don’t know that gets you into trouble, it’s what you do know for sure that ain’t exactly so!” Over the summer I can’t tell you how many times this wisdom has been exposed over and over again:
• From the duplicitous and mean-spirited manufacturing of lies designed to foment fear and hatred in the American electorate – think Ground Zero mosque or the Obama is a Muslim campaign – to the pathological arrogance of some of our politicians – Charlie Rangel, Rand Paul and Sarah Palin come to mind – old Mark Twain seems to be right in spades!
• “It’s NOT what you don’t know for sure that gets you into trouble, but rather it’s what you do know that ain’t exactly so!”
I think that is part of what St. Paul is trying to tell us in this morning’s text, too. In Peterson’s reworking of Romans 7 he says:
What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise… I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do i
t. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions that are holy. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time… And it happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge. I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope.
In other words, so often I am at war with myself: sometimes I know what is good and holy but can’t make myself do it; other times, I think I am obeying the rules – religious or civil – only to find that my actions have made things worse; and then there are all the times when I am baffled and at a loss and seem to add insult to injury by just standing still.
Are you with me here? Does this resonate with your experience, too? It seems to be part of the universal human condition: We truly delight in the goodness of God while parts of us covertly rebel at the same time. And then, when we least expect it, we wound rather than heal and hurt rather than help.
• Paul calls this reality the consequence o
f sin. And when sin is in charge, no matter how hard we try, we cannot live into a life of God’s grace and love: We cannot keep covenant with God and one another, we cannot be consistent in advancing compassion and we cannot abide in faith.
• Sin corrupts our intentions, waters down our commitments and fills us with guilt, shame and confusion.
This is Paul’s first insight: left to ourselves we cannot consistently live in covenant with God and those we love. We may want to be faithful – we may try to get it right - but how does that old Mills Brothers song put it: “You always hurt… the ones you love?” It is the human condition – and we are at war with ourselves.
Thankfully, Paul doesn’t quit with just one insight – that would be a bleak existentialism – for the old saint goes on to say: “Thank God the Lord acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do somethin
g totally different.” And this is Paul’s second insight: God interrupts the power of sin in our lives through Jesus Christ. He writes:
With the arrival of Jesus, the Messiah, that fateful dilemma is resolved. Those who enter into Christ's being-here-for-us no longer have to live under a continuous, low-lying black cloud. A new power is in operation. The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind, has magnificently cleared the air, freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny at the hands of sin and death.
And I trust that there is both a cosmic and a personal reality to the way Jesus interrupts and cleanses us from sin. On the grand and spiritual level, Paul wants us to know that in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, God showed the world that the grace and forgiveness of the Lord is stronger than death, fear and hatred. I love the way Clarence Jordan – spiritual forefather of Habitat for Humanity – put it in an Easter sermon:
• From the duplicitous and mean-spirited manufacturing of lies designed to foment fear and hatred in the American electorate – think Ground Zero mosque or the Obama is a Muslim campaign – to the pathological arrogance of some of our politicians – Charlie Rangel, Rand Paul and Sarah Palin come to mind – old Mark Twain seems to be right in spades!
• “It’s NOT what you don’t know for sure that gets you into trouble, but rather it’s what you do know that ain’t exactly so!”
I think that is part of what St. Paul is trying to tell us in this morning’s text, too. In Peterson’s reworking of Romans 7 he says:
What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise… I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do i
t. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions that are holy. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time… And it happens so regularly that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge. I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope.In other words, so often I am at war with myself: sometimes I know what is good and holy but can’t make myself do it; other times, I think I am obeying the rules – religious or civil – only to find that my actions have made things worse; and then there are all the times when I am baffled and at a loss and seem to add insult to injury by just standing still.
Are you with me here? Does this resonate with your experience, too? It seems to be part of the universal human condition: We truly delight in the goodness of God while parts of us covertly rebel at the same time. And then, when we least expect it, we wound rather than heal and hurt rather than help.
• Paul calls this reality the consequence o
f sin. And when sin is in charge, no matter how hard we try, we cannot live into a life of God’s grace and love: We cannot keep covenant with God and one another, we cannot be consistent in advancing compassion and we cannot abide in faith.• Sin corrupts our intentions, waters down our commitments and fills us with guilt, shame and confusion.
This is Paul’s first insight: left to ourselves we cannot consistently live in covenant with God and those we love. We may want to be faithful – we may try to get it right - but how does that old Mills Brothers song put it: “You always hurt… the ones you love?” It is the human condition – and we are at war with ourselves.
Thankfully, Paul doesn’t quit with just one insight – that would be a bleak existentialism – for the old saint goes on to say: “Thank God the Lord acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do somethin
g totally different.” And this is Paul’s second insight: God interrupts the power of sin in our lives through Jesus Christ. He writes:With the arrival of Jesus, the Messiah, that fateful dilemma is resolved. Those who enter into Christ's being-here-for-us no longer have to live under a continuous, low-lying black cloud. A new power is in operation. The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind, has magnificently cleared the air, freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny at the hands of sin and death.
And I trust that there is both a cosmic and a personal reality to the way Jesus interrupts and cleanses us from sin. On the grand and spiritual level, Paul wants us to know that in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, God showed the world that the grace and forgiveness of the Lord is stronger than death, fear and hatred. I love the way Clarence Jordan – spiritual forefather of Habitat for Humanity – put it in an Easter sermon:
By raising Jesus from the dead, God is refusing to take our NO for the final answer in life. God is telling us, “You can kill my boy if you wish, but I’m going to raise him from the dead and then put him right smack dab down again there on earth in the middle of you… For the resurrection of Jesus was God’s unwillingness to take our NO for the final answer of life. And let’s be clear: God raised Jesus not as an invitation to us to come to heaven when we die – although that is lovely – but rather as a declaration that God has 
now established permanent, eternal residence on this side of the grave – here and now – in our midst… So let’s be clear: on the morning of the resurrection, God put life back into the present tense – not the future or the past. God gave us not a promise, but a presence… not so much the assurance that we shall live someday but that Christ is risen today… and the proof that God raised Jesus from the dead is not that empty tomb, but the full hearts of transformed disciples who have experienced the grace of Jesus: not a vacant grave, but a spirit-filled fellowship – not a rolled-away stone but a carried away church!
Can I get a witness? Will somebody say: AMEN! That’s the big picture truth of Paul’s experience: God’s grace is bigger than all our sin and has been made flesh within the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. Grace not only trumps karma as Bono likes to say, grace interrupts and cleanses us of sin.
• And none of this is dependent upon us: did you get that? This is all God’s doing, not ours – a free and eternal spiritual gift – that does not rely upon our having to get it right.
• Because, we know, to use Paul’s words again that: I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions that are holy.
Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time… And it happens so regularly that it's predictable.
Grace and forgiveness are all about God – and that is a blessing – a gift – a liberation really. And…
… and we have to nourish and honor and cultivate the consequences of this gift in our personal, ordinary everyday lives or else before you know it, the lure of sin will start to grow within our hearts and minds again. God’s grace – not our good intentions – has broken the power of sin and evil in the world and in our hearts.
now established permanent, eternal residence on this side of the grave – here and now – in our midst… So let’s be clear: on the morning of the resurrection, God put life back into the present tense – not the future or the past. God gave us not a promise, but a presence… not so much the assurance that we shall live someday but that Christ is risen today… and the proof that God raised Jesus from the dead is not that empty tomb, but the full hearts of transformed disciples who have experienced the grace of Jesus: not a vacant grave, but a spirit-filled fellowship – not a rolled-away stone but a carried away church!Can I get a witness? Will somebody say: AMEN! That’s the big picture truth of Paul’s experience: God’s grace is bigger than all our sin and has been made flesh within the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. Grace not only trumps karma as Bono likes to say, grace interrupts and cleanses us of sin.
• And none of this is dependent upon us: did you get that? This is all God’s doing, not ours – a free and eternal spiritual gift – that does not rely upon our having to get it right.
• Because, we know, to use Paul’s words again that: I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions that are holy.
Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time… And it happens so regularly that it's predictable.Grace and forgiveness are all about God – and that is a blessing – a gift – a liberation really. And…
… and we have to nourish and honor and cultivate the consequences of this gift in our personal, ordinary everyday lives or else before you know it, the lure of sin will start to grow within our hearts and minds again. God’s grace – not our good intentions – has broken the power of sin and evil in the world and in our hearts.
Paul is clear that God’s grace and forgiveness is exactly what Jesus promised when he said: Come unto me all ye who are tired and heavy laden and I will give you rest. (Or as Peterson puts it: if you are worn out and burned out on religion and trying to get it right all by yourself, come to me and I will show you the unforced rhythms of grace.)
And… we can’t let grace atrophy – we have to nourish and practice it once we have experienced it – so that it grows stronger within and among us. That’s what Christ’s table talk parable is all about: there are things we do everyday – like eating – that can either strengthen or diminish our gratitude for God’s grace. New Testament theologian, N.T. Wright, likes to remind us that in Luke’s gospel there are two key metaphors: faith as a journey and faith as a feast.
(Consequently) Luke's gospel has more meal-time scenes than all the others. If his vision of the Christian life, from one point of view, is a journe
y, from another point of view it's a party or a feast." (Luke for Everyone). And it doesn't matter whether the eating happens in Emmaus, an Upper Room, or the fields along the road (plucking up ears of corn); in the home of a despised tax collector (Levi, in chapter five) or even those of respectable religious leaders who invite Jesus to join them: like Simon the Pharisee, in chapter seven, and here, in chapter fourteen, where another, unnamed leader of the Pharisees offers Jesus hospitality for the Sabbath dinner.
And what practice – or discipline – or embodied prayer is Jesus encouraging here at this feast? What happens in the story? Jesus is invited to a feast and knows that all the rule keepers are watching him closely: for what? What are they looking for?
They want him to break the rules so they can condemn him, right? And what does he say and do? He not only brings healing to one hungry for new life, he encourages those who know how to keep the rules to look for a deeper engagement with grace in their ordinary activity than what is obvious.
The
next time you put on a dinner, don't just invite your friends and family and rich neighbors, the kind of people who will return the favor. Invite some people who never get invited out, the misfits from the wrong side of the tracks. You'll be—and experience—a blessing. They won't be able to return the favor, but the favor will be returned—oh, how it will be returned!—at the resurrection of God's people.
That’s probably enough for today, ok? Two insights:
• First, that we recognize and celebrate that it is God’s love - not our deeds – that free us from the chaos and shame of sin.
• And, second, that by returning thanks to God through acts of compassion and generosity in the world our gratitude strengthens the grace of Christ within lest it atrophy.
Historically, one of the key ways we practice this gratitude is by coming to the table – Christ’s table – for Eucharist – which literally means “thanksgiving” from the Greek word – charis – for grace. When we come to Christ’s table, we come to receive, yes?
The ancient tradition asks us to come with our hands extended – to look upon our hands as we come forward – because… our hands are empty. Nora Gallagher in her book The Sacred Meals writes: “This may be the smartest thing Jesus ever did. How can I make my people step into the unknown? How can I get them to let in some of G
od’s surprises? I know, I’ll figure out a way for them to put their hands out in front of them – empty.”
In this, “we see that we do not have all the answers… we do not have all the power… in fact, much of life is out of our hands.” (Gallagher, p. 45) So we come – in empty humility and authentic gratitude – to simply receive… and in this we nourish the grace of Jesus within and among us all.
This is the good news for those who have ears to hear. Would you please join me now in affirming the heart of our faith together?
You, O God, are supreme and holy. You create and give us life. Your purpose overarches everything we do. You have always been with us. You are God and are infinitely generous, good beyond all measure. You came to us before we came to you. In the life, death and raising of Jesus Christ you revealed and proved your love for us. You are with us now – for you are the Lord. You empower us to be your gospel in the world through your Holy Spirit. You reconcile and heal; you overcome death. You are our God and we worship you in spirit and in truth. Amen.
And… we can’t let grace atrophy – we have to nourish and practice it once we have experienced it – so that it grows stronger within and among us. That’s what Christ’s table talk parable is all about: there are things we do everyday – like eating – that can either strengthen or diminish our gratitude for God’s grace. New Testament theologian, N.T. Wright, likes to remind us that in Luke’s gospel there are two key metaphors: faith as a journey and faith as a feast.
(Consequently) Luke's gospel has more meal-time scenes than all the others. If his vision of the Christian life, from one point of view, is a journe
y, from another point of view it's a party or a feast." (Luke for Everyone). And it doesn't matter whether the eating happens in Emmaus, an Upper Room, or the fields along the road (plucking up ears of corn); in the home of a despised tax collector (Levi, in chapter five) or even those of respectable religious leaders who invite Jesus to join them: like Simon the Pharisee, in chapter seven, and here, in chapter fourteen, where another, unnamed leader of the Pharisees offers Jesus hospitality for the Sabbath dinner. And what practice – or discipline – or embodied prayer is Jesus encouraging here at this feast? What happens in the story? Jesus is invited to a feast and knows that all the rule keepers are watching him closely: for what? What are they looking for?
They want him to break the rules so they can condemn him, right? And what does he say and do? He not only brings healing to one hungry for new life, he encourages those who know how to keep the rules to look for a deeper engagement with grace in their ordinary activity than what is obvious.
The
next time you put on a dinner, don't just invite your friends and family and rich neighbors, the kind of people who will return the favor. Invite some people who never get invited out, the misfits from the wrong side of the tracks. You'll be—and experience—a blessing. They won't be able to return the favor, but the favor will be returned—oh, how it will be returned!—at the resurrection of God's people.That’s probably enough for today, ok? Two insights:
• First, that we recognize and celebrate that it is God’s love - not our deeds – that free us from the chaos and shame of sin.
• And, second, that by returning thanks to God through acts of compassion and generosity in the world our gratitude strengthens the grace of Christ within lest it atrophy.
Historically, one of the key ways we practice this gratitude is by coming to the table – Christ’s table – for Eucharist – which literally means “thanksgiving” from the Greek word – charis – for grace. When we come to Christ’s table, we come to receive, yes?
The ancient tradition asks us to come with our hands extended – to look upon our hands as we come forward – because… our hands are empty. Nora Gallagher in her book The Sacred Meals writes: “This may be the smartest thing Jesus ever did. How can I make my people step into the unknown? How can I get them to let in some of G
od’s surprises? I know, I’ll figure out a way for them to put their hands out in front of them – empty.”In this, “we see that we do not have all the answers… we do not have all the power… in fact, much of life is out of our hands.” (Gallagher, p. 45) So we come – in empty humility and authentic gratitude – to simply receive… and in this we nourish the grace of Jesus within and among us all.
This is the good news for those who have ears to hear. Would you please join me now in affirming the heart of our faith together?
You, O God, are supreme and holy. You create and give us life. Your purpose overarches everything we do. You have always been with us. You are God and are infinitely generous, good beyond all measure. You came to us before we came to you. In the life, death and raising of Jesus Christ you revealed and proved your love for us. You are with us now – for you are the Lord. You empower us to be your gospel in the world through your Holy Spirit. You reconcile and heal; you overcome death. You are our God and we worship you in spirit and in truth. Amen.
3 comments:
When Joyce was attending seminary years ago, one of the interpretations going around on various NT subjects was that St. Paul was gay, and if so, a lot of what he said that you've quoted would make a greatg deal of sense. Not the final word, by any means!
Lots here, brother.
I know that take on him, too, my man and it has resonance, yes? Especially the thorn in his side that he prayed to have taken away but remained? I find that the older I get the more space I have for Paul's wisdom and more patience I have with his failing - except when they have been taken to inflict greater wounds on women and the GLBTQ community and others traditionally wounded by the Christian realm. An old Black woman used to say that she loved the Bible - except for Paul - because he condoned slavery in his day and that gave permission for slavery in the days of her grand paents. I get that, too... and still the word contains more light than has yet been revealed.
Except that reading him is so often like reading a legal brief! ;)
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