The Cross of Christ

Velazque.jpgIn a recent post, David Hayward quoted from Martin Luther’s “pivotal book, The Bondage of the Will,” in which Luther writes:

In every creature St. Paul, with his sharp, discerning, apostolic eye, perceived the holy and beloved cross.*

This quote reminded me of one of my favorite hymns. Written by Isaac Watts, When I Survey the Wondrous Cross is such a beautiful blend of scriptural references, imagery and personal pietism (and in this case I mean this in a good way) that I don’t think there will ever be a hymn to surpass it’s portrayal of the crucified Christ and our needed response. The lyrics of the hymn are reprinted below.

When I Survey the Wondrous Cross
Text: Isaac Watts, 1674-1748
Music: Lowell Mason, 1792-1872
Tune: HAMBURG, Meter: LM

When I survey the wondrous cross
on which the Prince of Glory died;
my richest gain I count but loss,
and pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
save in the death of Christ, my God;
all the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to his blood.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
that were an offering far too small;
love so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all.

Personally, I cannot read or sing the last verse of this hymn without becoming teary-eyed.  To consider the gift of Christ on the cross is something that I need to do more often in both my devotional and preaching lives. I feel the need to be more like Paul in this regard, who once wrote, “But we preach Christ crucified.”

Another hymn that I love with much the same theme is “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded.”

O Sacred Head Now Wounded
Text: Anonymous; trans. by Paul Gerhardt and James W. Alexander
Music: Hans L. Hassler, 1564-1612; harm. by J.S. Bach, 1685-1750
Tune: PASSION CHORALE, Meter: 76.76 D

O sacred Head, now wounded,
with grief and shame weighed down,
now scornfully surrounded
with thorns, thine only crown:
how pale thou art with anguish,
with sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish
which once was bright as morn!

What thou, my Lord, has suffered
was all for sinners’ gain;
mine, mine was the transgression,
but thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior!
‘Tis I deserve thy place;
look on me with thy favor,
vouchsafe to me thy grace.

What language shall I borrow
to thank thee, dearest friend,
for this thy dying sorrow,
thy pity without end?
O make me thine forever;
and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never
outlive my love for thee.

DevotionIt seems to me that the sentiments expressed in these two hymns are the perfect antidote to the selfish and self-centered attitudes of many people in today’s world.  At least they are an antidote to these attitudes in me.  Spend a few minutes contemplating these hymns and their message.  And though I am no prosperity preacher, I am sure you will benefit greatly from such contemplation.

* Initial quote originally published on Sun, 28 Jan 2007 10:46:14 GMT by David Hayward.

 

"Love and the Prophet," or "Killing the Messenger" – A Sermon for Epiphany 4C

Here is my offering for Sunday, January 28, 2006.  It is based on the readings from 1 Corinthians 13 and Luke 4:21-30.  My paraphrase of these scriptures is as follows:

———-

1 Corinthians 13

Though I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but have not love, I am a sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have prophetic powers and understand every mystery and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I give away all I possess, and though I surrender my body to be burned,but have not love, it profits me nothing.

Love is patient; love is kind. Love envies not, love is not arrogant or proud. It does not act unseemly; it is not self-seeking, not easily provoked, and does not dwell on evil. It does not rejoice at injustice, but rejoices in the truth. Love bears all things, has faith in all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails. As for prophecies, they will vanish away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to nought. For we know in part and prophesy in part, but when the complete comes, then that which is partial will pass away.

When I was I child, I spoke as a child, I thought as a child, I reasoned like a child. But when I became an adult, I put away childish ways. For now we see in a mirror obscured, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I will know even as I am fully known.

And now abide faith, hope and love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

———-

Luke 4:21-30

And [Jesus] began speaking to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled even as you heard it read.”

And all spoke well of him and admired the gracious words that came from his mouth. And they said, “Is not this Joseph’s son?”

And he said to them, “No doubt you will tell me this proverb, Physician, heal yourself.’ What we have heard done in Capernaum, do also here in your hometown.”

And Jesus said, “Truly I say to you, no prophet finds approval in his own country. Moreover I tell you of a truth: many widows were in Israel in the days of Elijah when the sky was shut three years and six months, so that a great famine was upon all the land. Yet unto none of them was Elijah sent, only to Zarephath of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow. And many lepers were in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet, yet not one of them was made clean, save Naaman the Syrian.

Then all who were in the synagogue, when they heard these things, were filled with fury. And they rose up and drove him out of the town and led him to the precipice of the hill on which their town was built, so that they could cast him down headlong. But he, passing through their midst, went on his way.

———-

Sermon

 

The people of Nazareth thought they knew Jesus.
After all, he was one of them.
He had grown up in their village.
His father was Joseph the town carpenter – a good, honorable craftsman.
But recently the townsfolk had been hearing some strange things about their native son — and they were curious.
Word had spread that Jesus was a gifted teacher as well as a healer of body and soul.
And so, on this particular Sabbath day the Synagogue was filled to capacity since it was also known that Jesus would be there.
And as the time for the service to begin crept closer, everyone in the congregation waited with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Of course, no one was surprised when the leader of the synagogue took out a sacred scroll of holy Scripture,
handed it to Jesus and invited him to read a passage.
It was customary to offer a visiting Rabbi such an opportunity.
And no one was surprised when Jesus stood to his feet,
unrolled the scroll and began reading from Isaiah,
chapter 61, verses 1 and 2, saying:
“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind,
to release the oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Nor was anyone surprised when Jesus rolled up the scroll,
gave it back to the worship leader and sat down.
It was, after all, standard procedure for a Rabbi to teach sitting down.
No the surprise was yet to come.

By now the Synagogue was quiet – so very quiet -
and all the people fixed their eyes on Jesus,
waiting for him to speak.
And so he did,
and at first everyone was quite impressed with what he said.
As verse 22 says: “And all spoke well of him and wondered at the gracious words that proceeded out of his mouth.”
But then, the surprise,
for within a few short minutes,
a drastic change has occurred in the congregation’s mood and everyone there is ready to throw Jesus off a cliff outside of town.

What happened here?
How did the fair-haired hometown boy move so quickly from being a welcome celebrity to unwanted prophet?
How is that the murmurs of “That’s our boy.” turned into shouts of outrage?

Part of the problem probably lies in the fact that Jesus is in his hometown.
Now it is well-known that prophets,
even great ones, are not honored in their hometowns.
Jesus himself makes this point when he states elsewhere,
“Prophets are honored everywhere except in their own country and house.”
We should expect Jesus’ rejection in his own backyard.
People there had seen him grow up,
and because they had always known him,
they really did not respect him.
And so they cannot accept what he says.

But it is also true that what Jesus says is hard to swallow.
For the people then and for us now.
Nazareth and Pottstown are one and the same when it comes to the prophetic message of Jesus the Christ.
As long as Jesus message is positive and pleasing, fine.
And in Nazareth the words Jesus read were words of hope,
quoted directly from scripture –
proclaiming release for the captive and liberty for the oppressed -
and when we remember these folks lived in an occupied land,
oppressed by Roman soldiers,
we can easily see how pleasing they are.

And the recovering of sight for the blind. . . who could be against that?
Indeed, the people had heard of his miracles elsewhere and couldn’t wait to see some of his healing works themselves.
They were delighted to hear that God had anointed Jesus to preach good news to the poor.
After all, most of these folks were common peasants themselves,
easily poor enough to be ready to hear some good news.
And while our middle class culture could hardly be called poor,
most of us still feel the need for release from some of the things that keep us in captivity,
we are all interested in being liberated from what oppresses us,
and we could all use some good news.
So the people then were more than happy to hear that Jesus had been anointed by God to preach good news.
And most people are happy in our time to think of Jesus in the same light.

I was shopping some time ago,
and noticed that the tune being played over the speakers in the mall ceiling sounded familiar.
As I listened more closely I recognized it as a song by, of all groups,
the Doobie Brothers,
and I began to sing right along with them,
“Jesus is just alright with me. . .Jesus is just alright, Oh Yeah!”

Yes, Jesus is just alright with everybody if he comes to preach release and liberty and good news.
But go beyond that and you’ve got trouble.
Lots of people, along with those in Nazareth, wonder at the gracious words which proceed out of Jesus’ mouth,
but if those words take on flesh and we actually have to do something about what Jesus is talking about,
then Jesus’ words don’t seem so gracious anymore.
The good townspeople of Nazareth don’t
care for what Jesus is saying.
In fact, they hate the implications of what they hear so much they are ready to kill the preacher.

The people of Nazareth would rather Jesus stick to working miracles and healings and such.
In fact they seem to insist that Jesus do in his own home town the miraculous things he is said to have done over in Capernaum.
And this quickly becomes another part of the problem for Jesus.
For after having heard Jesus’ claim to be anointed by God to speak as a prophet the people immediately begin to demand that he use his special relationship with God to do things for them.

“How come you went all the way over there to Capernaum to do your miracles?
What’s the matter. . .aren’t we good enough for you?
We could use some excitement around here too, you know.
Let’s bring those crowds into our town. . . they’ll be good for business.
We understand you had quite a circus going out there,
with all those healings and miracles. . .
well, let’s see your stuff, Jesus. . .”

So one problem with people who are attracted to Jesus’ claim to be anointed by God is that they tend to become demanding of him,
for their own purposes.
A self-centered narrowness emerged quickly at Nazareth,
and it is not hard to find among church going folk in our own day.

So yes, prophets are popular as long as they claim to bring special privilege to their listeners.
But prophets quickly become unpopular when they speak of special responsibilities,
and this is what ultimately brings things to a head for Jesus at Nazareth.

Now verses 25 through 27 can be confusing to modern readers unless we understand what the references to Syria and Sidon meant to the Jews who lived at Nazareth.
You see, those places were considered pagan areas,
beyond the boundaries of Israel.
The people there were thought to be gentile nobodies,
of no importance to the God whose special concern was Israel.
God was supposed to care about his chosen people, the Jews, first.
All others were considered unworthy of the divine love.

No wonder then that things exploded when Jesus reminded them that the good news about God’s love was as much for the gentiles and the pagans as it was for them.
In response to their demands,
Jesus tells the people in the synagogue that there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah,
when there was a great famine,
but God only sent Elijah out of Israel to a widow living in pagan Sidon.
And as if this example was not enough, Jesus continues.
He tells the crowd,
“There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha,
but God chose to heal Namaaan, the Syrian, another foreigner,
and even worse, an enemy, of his leprosy.”
And by reminding them of these two pieces of scripture history,
Jesus is telling them that God’s love is not limited to those who think they are more important than others.
Indeed, the proud and demanding can actually shut themselves off from God’s love.

And so here we have the hometown boy who claims to be anointed a prophet by God.
But this prophet is not coming home to proclaim special privilege for his neighbors in Nazareth,
but rather to call them to recognize God’s love for people everywhere,
even the pagan peoples whom they despise,
even their enemies, like the Syrians of old,
or even in their own time, the hated Romans.

At it is here that the objections begin.
I mean Jesus can’t seriously be suggesting that we are to treat those different from ourselves and even our enemies the way God treats them, can he?
He can’t really want us to love them as God loves us.
I mean it is hard enough to affirm love within the family.
It is even harder to widen the circle and affirm love in our communities and nation.
But then there comes this disturbing prophet who calls for love beyond Nazareth.
There is this voice that mentions the unmentionable places and people,
the Sidons and Syrias of our own prejudices,
and love becomes a problem -
which is to say that Jesus becomes a problem – an unwanted prophet.
Jesus tells us that God loves these outsiders,
these strangers,
these needy ones.
He tells us that the good news is for them too,
and that God’s help and healing extends to those beyond the bounds of our caring.

That was the message which so disturbed the people of Jesus’ hometown.
The people of Nazareth who first greeted Jesus with “Amen!”
finally yelled, “Kill him!” because he painfully reminded them of what they knew,
namely that God is free, alive, gracious,
and way beyond any bounds we may try to set for him.
The worshipers at Nazareth knew that God had blessed an undeserving outsider through Elijah’s ministry,
and they knew that God had cured a Syrian terrorist through Elisha,
but it was a lot more than they wanted to know,
and they certainly did not come to church on that January morning to be reminded that God refused before to play by the rules and might well refuse to play by our rules again.
So what to do?
I’ll tell you what they wanted to do:
Get rid of the young rabbi and prophet, that’s what!

And though Jesus got away from the angry worshipers that first time in Nazareth, he did not escape for good.
When he’d finally let in too many outsiders,
eaten with too many sinners and blurred the boundaries once too often,
the crowds that had once shouted “Hosanna” eventually called out for Jesus’ blood.
With cross and nails they finally shut him up,
but not before he cried out,
“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Like Elijah, like Elisha and like Jeremiah,
the prophet Jesus was a troubler of Israel’s ignorance
but it was not the kind of ignorance to be relieved by a trip to the local library or by earning this or that degree.
Jesus troubled the people of his hometown because he told them something they already knew,
though they would have preferred to forget it.
And this has always been true of real prophets.

Martin Luther King, Jr. did not come preaching something new,
he came shouting something we already knew,
“You have said in your own Declaration of Independence,
`We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal,
and are endowed with certain inalienable rights.’
And I insist, that you either live by what you already know -
or else be unfaithful to your own Constitution.”
And we killed him, because King told us what we already knew.

Will Willimon tells a story about one person’s reaction to a sermon of his.
He writes:
I had just preached as best I could on Matthew’s story of the Laborers in the Vineyard, you know, the parable about how some workers came early, some came mid-day, some came late,
and at the end of the day, they all were paid the same wage.
Congregation files out.
She lingered behind.
“Where do you get these stories?” she asked.
“From growing up in South Carolina, I guess,” I replied.

“Well, I was troubled by your sermon today,” she said.
“What troubled you?” I asked, in my usual non-defensive defensiveness.
“I just don’t think that’s fair.
I believe that people ought to be paid fairly for the work they do and I….”
“Wait!” I said. “That story is not original with me.
That’s from Matthew.”
“Matthew?” she asked.
“Yea, Matthew. Like in the Bible?”
“Oh, sure, the Bible.”

“You’ve never heard that story before?
What is your religious background?” I asked,
just praying to God she wouldn’t say, “Methodist.”
She had not gone to church much, a bit as a kid, that’s all.
“You know,” I said, “I almost envy you.
I have just preached a perfectly outrageous story and hundred of people have filed out and told me it was a nice sermon.
In a way, you are the only one that got it, the only one to understand.
Just for your information,
the man who told that story was killed for telling it.
Just after he told that story we got organized and killed him.
You, of all people, got it.”

As another preacher has said:
Of all the prophets ever slain in Israel, America or anywhere else,
God raised this one, this healer of gentiles and friend of sinners,
so we might know that God has forgiven everything, and continues to do so even today.
Despite everything, God is patient and kind toward us, not irritable or resentful.
God laughs not at our weaknesses, but rejoices over the truth that we are all God’s children.
For each and for all of us, God bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
His love never ends.

God’s love never ends.
Not for us,
not for anyone, period.
And we are called to show that same love to everyone, everywhere, and anytime . . . regardless of who they are or what they have done.
And if this news doesn’t upset you at least a little bit,
then you probably haven’t been listening.

Lewis Pitts is a lawyer and a Christian.
Since graduating law school he has been involved in poverty law, radical law, and he goes all over the place to defend people without money or friends.
He has defended communists against the Klan,
Native Americans against the sheriff,
blacks against blacks or whites.
In an old car,
living from hand to mouth,
death threats an almost everyday occurrence.
What makes him do it?

When he was asked what had turned him into a radical lawyer with no money and very few friends,
this was what he said,
“God is love and we ought to love others.”
“That’s it?,” someone protested, “but that’s not really saying enough.”
“It’s enough to get you shot.” Lewis said, and then he added,
“Look, I’m from Bethune, SC,
and when you’re a Methodist from Bethune you don’t learn much theology except what you can pick up in Sunday school.
All I learned was God is love and we ought to love others.”

And so he does.
He loves as God loves.
He loves as Jesus loves.
And that, my friends, is enough to get you shot.
It’s enough to get you crucified.
Just ask that young preacher and prophet from Nazareth.
Ask him and see what he says.
Go ahead, ask him.
I dare you.

———

 

 

“Love and the Prophet,” or “Killing the Messenger” – A Sermon for Epiphany 4C

Here is my offering for Sunday, January 28, 2006.  It is based on the readings from 1 Corinthians 13 and Luke 4:21-30.  My paraphrase of these scriptures is as follows:

———-

1 Corinthians 13

Though I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but have not love, I am a sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have prophetic powers and understand every mystery and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I give away all I possess, and though I surrender my body to be burned,but have not love, it profits me nothing.

Love is patient; love is kind. Love envies not, love is not arrogant or proud. It does not act unseemly; it is not self-seeking, not easily provoked, and does not dwell on evil. It does not rejoice at injustice, but rejoices in the truth. Love bears all things, has faith in all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails. As for prophecies, they will vanish away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to nought. For we know in part and prophesy in part, but when the complete comes, then that which is partial will pass away.

When I was I child, I spoke as a child, I thought as a child, I reasoned like a child. But when I became an adult, I put away childish ways. For now we see in a mirror obscured, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I will know even as I am fully known.

And now abide faith, hope and love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

———-

Luke 4:21-30

And [Jesus] began speaking to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled even as you heard it read.”

And all spoke well of him and admired the gracious words that came from his mouth. And they said, “Is not this Joseph’s son?”

And he said to them, “No doubt you will tell me this proverb, Physician, heal yourself.’ What we have heard done in Capernaum, do also here in your hometown.”

And Jesus said, “Truly I say to you, no prophet finds approval in his own country. Moreover I tell you of a truth: many widows were in Israel in the days of Elijah when the sky was shut three years and six months, so that a great famine was upon all the land. Yet unto none of them was Elijah sent, only to Zarephath of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow. And many lepers were in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet, yet not one of them was made clean, save Naaman the Syrian.

Then all who were in the synagogue, when they heard these things, were filled with fury. And they rose up and drove him out of the town and led him to the precipice of the hill on which their town was built, so that they could cast him down headlong. But he, passing through their midst, went on his way.

———-

Sermon

 

The people of Nazareth thought they knew Jesus.
After all, he was one of them.
He had grown up in their village.
His father was Joseph the town carpenter – a good, honorable craftsman.
But recently the townsfolk had been hearing some strange things about their native son — and they were curious.
Word had spread that Jesus was a gifted teacher as well as a healer of body and soul.
And so, on this particular Sabbath day the Synagogue was filled to capacity since it was also known that Jesus would be there.
And as the time for the service to begin crept closer, everyone in the congregation waited with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Of course, no one was surprised when the leader of the synagogue took out a sacred scroll of holy Scripture,
handed it to Jesus and invited him to read a passage.
It was customary to offer a visiting Rabbi such an opportunity.
And no one was surprised when Jesus stood to his feet,
unrolled the scroll and began reading from Isaiah,
chapter 61, verses 1 and 2, saying:
“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind,
to release the oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Nor was anyone surprised when Jesus rolled up the scroll,
gave it back to the worship leader and sat down.
It was, after all, standard procedure for a Rabbi to teach sitting down.
No the surprise was yet to come.

By now the Synagogue was quiet – so very quiet -
and all the people fixed their eyes on Jesus,
waiting for him to speak.
And so he did,
and at first everyone was quite impressed with what he said.
As verse 22 says: “And all spoke well of him and wondered at the gracious words that proceeded out of his mouth.”
But then, the surprise,
for within a few short minutes,
a drastic change has occurred in the congregation’s mood and everyone there is ready to throw Jesus off a cliff outside of town.

What happened here?
How did the fair-haired hometown boy move so quickly from being a welcome celebrity to unwanted prophet?
How is that the murmurs of “That’s our boy.” turned into shouts of outrage?

Part of the problem probably lies in the fact that Jesus is in his hometown.
Now it is well-known that prophets,
even great ones, are not honored in their hometowns.
Jesus himself makes this point when he states elsewhere,
“Prophets are honored everywhere except in their own country and house.”
We should expect Jesus’ rejection in his own backyard.
People there had seen him grow up,
and because they had always known him,
they really did not respect him.
And so they cannot accept what he says.

But it is also true that what Jesus says is hard to swallow.
For the people then and for us now.
Nazareth and Pottstown are one and the same when it comes to the prophetic message of Jesus the Christ.
As long as Jesus message is positive and pleasing, fine.
And in Nazareth the words Jesus read were words of hope,
quoted directly from scripture –
proclaiming release for the captive and liberty for the oppressed -
and when we remember these folks lived in an occupied land,
oppressed by Roman soldiers,
we can easily see how pleasing they are.

And the recovering of sight for the blind. . . who could be against that?
Indeed, the people had heard of his miracles elsewhere and couldn’t wait to see some of his healing works themselves.
They were delighted to hear that God had anointed Jesus to preach good news to the poor.
After all, most of these folks were common peasants themselves,
easily poor enough to be ready to hear some good news.
And while our middle class culture could hardly be called poor,
most of us still feel the need for release from some of the things that keep us in captivity,
we are all interested in being liberated from what oppresses us,
and we could all use some good news.
So the people then were more than happy to hear that Jesus had been anointed by God to preach good news.
And most people are happy in our time to think of Jesus in the same light.

I was shopping some time ago,
and noticed that the tune being played over the speakers in the mall ceiling sounded familiar.
As I listened more closely I recognized it as a song by, of all groups,
the Doobie Brothers,
and I began to sing right along with them,
“Jesus is just alright with me. . .Jesus is just alright, Oh Yeah!”

Yes, Jesus is just alright with everybody if he comes to preach release and liberty and good news.
But go beyond that and you’ve got trouble.
Lots of people, along with those in Nazareth, wonder at the gracious words which proceed out of Jesus’ mouth,
but if those words take on flesh and we actually have to do something about what Jesus is talking about,
then Jesus’ words don’t seem so gracious anymore.
The good townspeople of Nazareth don’t
care for what Jesus is saying.
In fact, they hate the implications of what they hear so much they are ready to kill the preacher.

The people of Nazareth would rather Jesus stick to working miracles and healings and such.
In fact they seem to insist that Jesus do in his own home town the miraculous things he is said to have done over in Capernaum.
And this quickly becomes another part of the problem for Jesus.
For after having heard Jesus’ claim to be anointed by God to speak as a prophet the people immediately begin to demand that he use his special relationship with God to do things for them.

“How come you went all the way over there to Capernaum to do your miracles?
What’s the matter. . .aren’t we good enough for you?
We could use some excitement around here too, you know.
Let’s bring those crowds into our town. . . they’ll be good for business.
We understand you had quite a circus going out there,
with all those healings and miracles. . .
well, let’s see your stuff, Jesus. . .”

So one problem with people who are attracted to Jesus’ claim to be anointed by God is that they tend to become demanding of him,
for their own purposes.
A self-centered narrowness emerged quickly at Nazareth,
and it is not hard to find among church going folk in our own day.

So yes, prophets are popular as long as they claim to bring special privilege to their listeners.
But prophets quickly become unpopular when they speak of special responsibilities,
and this is what ultimately brings things to a head for Jesus at Nazareth.

Now verses 25 through 27 can be confusing to modern readers unless we understand what the references to Syria and Sidon meant to the Jews who lived at Nazareth.
You see, those places were considered pagan areas,
beyond the boundaries of Israel.
The people there were thought to be gentile nobodies,
of no importance to the God whose special concern was Israel.
God was supposed to care about his chosen people, the Jews, first.
All others were considered unworthy of the divine love.

No wonder then that things exploded when Jesus reminded them that the good news about God’s love was as much for the gentiles and the pagans as it was for them.
In response to their demands,
Jesus tells the people in the synagogue that there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah,
when there was a great famine,
but God only sent Elijah out of Israel to a widow living in pagan Sidon.
And as if this example was not enough, Jesus continues.
He tells the crowd,
“There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha,
but God chose to heal Namaaan, the Syrian, another foreigner,
and even worse, an enemy, of his leprosy.”
And by reminding them of these two pieces of scripture history,
Jesus is telling them that God’s love is not limited to those who think they are more important than others.
Indeed, the proud and demanding can actually shut themselves off from God’s love.

And so here we have the hometown boy who claims to be anointed a prophet by God.
But this prophet is not coming home to proclaim special privilege for his neighbors in Nazareth,
but rather to call them to recognize God’s love for people everywhere,
even the pagan peoples whom they despise,
even their enemies, like the Syrians of old,
or even in their own time, the hated Romans.

At it is here that the objections begin.
I mean Jesus can’t seriously be suggesting that we are to treat those different from ourselves and even our enemies the way God treats them, can he?
He can’t really want us to love them as God loves us.
I mean it is hard enough to affirm love within the family.
It is even harder to widen the circle and affirm love in our communities and nation.
But then there comes this disturbing prophet who calls for love beyond Nazareth.
There is this voice that mentions the unmentionable places and people,
the Sidons and Syrias of our own prejudices,
and love becomes a problem -
which is to say that Jesus becomes a problem – an unwanted prophet.
Jesus tells us that God loves these outsiders,
these strangers,
these needy ones.
He tells us that the good news is for them too,
and that God’s help and healing extends to those beyond the bounds of our caring.

That was the message which so disturbed the people of Jesus’ hometown.
The people of Nazareth who first greeted Jesus with “Amen!”
finally yelled, “Kill him!” because he painfully reminded them of what they knew,
namely that God is free, alive, gracious,
and way beyond any bounds we may try to set for him.
The worshipers at Nazareth knew that God had blessed an undeserving outsider through Elijah’s ministry,
and they knew that God had cured a Syrian terrorist through Elisha,
but it was a lot more than they wanted to know,
and they certainly did not come to church on that January morning to be reminded that God refused before to play by the rules and might well refuse to play by our rules again.
So what to do?
I’ll tell you what they wanted to do:
Get rid of the young rabbi and prophet, that’s what!

And though Jesus got away from the angry worshipers that first time in Nazareth, he did not escape for good.
When he’d finally let in too many outsiders,
eaten with too many sinners and blurred the boundaries once too often,
the crowds that had once shouted “Hosanna” eventually called out for Jesus’ blood.
With cross and nails they finally shut him up,
but not before he cried out,
“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Like Elijah, like Elisha and like Jeremiah,
the prophet Jesus was a troubler of Israel’s ignorance
but it was not the kind of ignorance to be relieved by a trip to the local library or by earning this or that degree.
Jesus troubled the people of his hometown because he told them something they already knew,
though they would have preferred to forget it.
And this has always been true of real prophets.

Martin Luther King, Jr. did not come preaching something new,
he came shouting something we already knew,
“You have said in your own Declaration of Independence,
`We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal,
and are endowed with certain inalienable rights.’
And I insist, that you either live by what you already know -
or else be unfaithful to your own Constitution.”
And we killed him, because King told us what we already knew.

Will Willimon tells a story about one person’s reaction to a sermon of his.
He writes:
I had just preached as best I could on Matthew’s story of the Laborers in the Vineyard, you know, the parable about how some workers came early, some came mid-day, some came late,
and at the end of the day, they all were paid the same wage.
Congregation files out.
She lingered behind.
“Where do you get these stories?” she asked.
“From growing up in South Carolina, I guess,” I replied.

“Well, I was troubled by your sermon today,” she said.
“What troubled you?” I asked, in my usual non-defensive defensiveness.
“I just don’t think that’s fair.
I believe that people ought to be paid fairly for the work they do and I….”
“Wait!” I said. “That story is not original with me.
That’s from Matthew.”
“Matthew?” she asked.
“Yea, Matthew. Like in the Bible?”
“Oh, sure, the Bible.”

“You’ve never heard that story before?
What is your religious background?” I asked,
just praying to God she wouldn’t say, “Methodist.”
She had not gone to church much, a bit as a kid, that’s all.
“You know,” I said, “I almost envy you.
I have just preached a perfectly outrageous story and hundred of people have filed out and told me it was a nice sermon.
In a way, you are the only one that got it, the only one to understand.
Just for your information,
the man who told that story was killed for telling it.
Just after he told that story we got organized and killed him.
You, of all people, got it.”

As another preacher has said:
Of all the prophets ever slain in Israel, America or anywhere else,
God raised this one, this healer of gentiles and friend of sinners,
so we might know that God has forgiven everything, and continues to do so even today.
Despite everything, God is patient and kind toward us, not irritable or resentful.
God laughs not at our weaknesses, but rejoices over the truth that we are all God’s children.
For each and for all of us, God bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
His love never ends.

God’s love never ends.
Not for us,
not for anyone, period.
And we are called to show that same love to everyone, everywhere, and anytime . . . regardless of who they are or what they have done.
And if this news doesn’t upset you at least a little bit,
then you probably haven’t been listening.

Lewis Pitts is a lawyer and a Christian.
Since graduating law school he has been involved in poverty law, radical law, and he goes all over the place to defend people without money or friends.
He has defended communists against the Klan,
Native Americans against the sheriff,
blacks against blacks or whites.
In an old car,
living from hand to mouth,
death threats an almost everyday occurrence.
What makes him do it?

When he was asked what had turned him into a radical lawyer with no money and very few friends,
this was what he said,
“God is love and we ought to love others.”
“That’s it?,” someone protested, “but that’s not really saying enough.”
“It’s enough to get you shot.” Lewis said, and then he added,
“Look, I’m from Bethune, SC,
and when you’re a Methodist from Bethune you don’t learn much theology except what you can pick up in Sunday school.
All I learned was God is love and we ought to love others.”

And so he does.
He loves as God loves.
He loves as Jesus loves.
And that, my friends, is enough to get you shot.
It’s enough to get you crucified.
Just ask that young preacher and prophet from Nazareth.
Ask him and see what he says.
Go ahead, ask him.
I dare you.

———

 

 

Luke 4:21-30

And [Jesus] began speaking to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled even as you heard it read.”

And all spoke well of him and admired the gracious words that came from his mouth. And they said, “Is not this Jospeh’s son?”

And he said to them, “No doubt you will tell me this proverb, ‘Physician, heal yourself.’ What we have heard done in Capernuam, do also here in your hometown.”

And Jesus said, “Truly I say to you, no prophet finds approval in his own country. Moreover I tell you of a truth: many widows were in Israel in the days of Elijah when the sky was shut three years and six months, so that a great famine was upon all the land. Yet unto none of them was Elijah sent, only to Zarephath of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow. And many lepers were in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet, yet not one of them was made clean, save Naaman the Syrian.

Then all who were in the synagogue, when they heard these things, were filled with fury. And they rose up and drove him out of the town and led him to the precipice of the hill on which their town was built, so that they could cast him down headlong. But he, passing through their midst, went on his way.

 

1 Corinthians 13

 

Though I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but have not love, I am a sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have prophetic powers and understand every mystery and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I give away all I possess, and though I surrender my body to be burned,but have not love, it profits me nothing.

Love is patient; love is kind. Love envies not, love is not arrogant or proud. It does not act unseemly; it is not self-seeking, not easily provoked, and does not dwell on evil. It does not rejoice at injustice, but rejoices in the truth. Love bears all things, has faith in all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails. As for prophecies, they will vanish away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to nought. For we know in part and prophesy in part, but when the complete comes, then that which is partial will pass away.

When I was I child, I spoke as a child, I thought as a child, I reasoned like a child. But when I became an adult, I put away childish ways. For now we see in a mirror obscured, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I will know even as I am fully known.

And now abide faith, hope and love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

Psalm 71:1-6

In you, O Lord, do I flee for refuge; never let me be disappointed.

Deliver me in your righteousness, deliver me: incline your ear to me and save me.

Be my rock of refuge, to which I can continually come. Send your messenger to defend me, for you are my stronghold and fortress.

Rescue me, O God, from the hand of the ungodly, from the hand of the unjust and cruel.

For you are my hope, O Lord God, my confidence since my childhood.

Upon you I have leaned upon from birth; it was you who brought me forth from my mother’s womb. My praise of you is constant.

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Jeremiah 1:4-10

The Word of the Eternal came to me saying,

“Before I fashioned you on the womb I knew you, and before you came out of the womb I sanctified you, I appointed you a prophet to the nations*

Then I said, “Oh, Lord God! Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.

The Eternal said to me, “Do not say,’I am only a boy, for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you will speak everything that I command you. Do not fear them, for I am with you to defend you, says the Eternal.

Then the Eternal stretched out his hand and placed it upon my mouth. And the Eternal said to me, “Behold, I have given my words to your mouth. See, I have this day placed you above the nations and above the kingdoms, to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to tear down, to build and to plant.”

*not to Israel, but to the “foreign” nations

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When the Good News Doesn’t Sound So Good – A Sermon for Epiphany 4C

Here is a sermon I preached three years ago on the texts for Epiphany 4c.  You can read the scriptures for this message here.

 

In Flannery O’Connor’s short story “Revelation”,
Ruby Turpin is sitting in the doctor’s waiting room,
evaluating each person around her.
Ruby judges herself to be superior,
by more than a grade or two,
to everyone there,
especially to a poor, unkempt, teenaged wretch seated across from her who is reading a book.
Ruby thinks it sad that the girl’s parents did not groom here more attractively.
Perish the thought of having a child as scowling as this one.

As for the “ugly” child, Mary Grace,
she listens for a while as Ruby chatters outloud about the superiority of poor blacks over “white trash.”
Then, without warning, Mary Grace fixes her steely eyes on Ruby and hurls her book across the room.
The book hits Ruby in the head and she falls to the floor with Mary Grace on top of her hissing into her ear.
“Go back to hell where you came from, you old wart hog!”

This, says O’Connor, is the violent, shocked beginning of Ruby’s redemption and the foundation for a heavenly vision she will later see when she returns home from her visit to the doctor.
Revelation often begins when a large book hits you on the head.

While in Seminary in the late eighties,
my how the time flies,
I went with the Drew Theological School Choir on a tour of Jamaica.
There were 27 of us in all,
with cameras, Bibles and songbooks in hand.
We went to Jamaica to bring the people there a little of the “Good News” through our singing.
Our musical program even included a selection entitled “Ain’ta That Good News.”
But there are times when the good news may not seem so good.
There are even times when the good news upsets and offends.
So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I met someone who was not able nor wanted to hear any good news we might bring.

I was standing on the dock at Safe Harbor taking pictures of the bay and the birds playing in the air,
practicing their divebombing attempts to catch fish,
when I noticed a ferry crossing the harbor from the capital city of Kingston; it was loaded down with people.
I walked to one end of the pier to get a better look,
and as I passed by one rather tall, well-dressed and dignified woman I heard her say,
“If you take a picture of me with that camera,
I’ll push you out into the water.”

At first I thought she was kidding me.
I had no plans to take her picture.
I didn’t even have my camera raised.
So I said, “I wouldn’t dream of taking your picture if you don’t want me to.”
Her reply was totally unexpected.
“You Americans,
you come down here with your cameras and your money and your sermons about God and expect us to eat it all up,”
“Look at these people,” she said, “Some of them don’t even have enough money to buy themselves something to eat.
You either come down in your suits and ties preaching about God and taking pictures,
or you come with white robes,
acting like the Ku Klux Klan.”

I didn’t know what to say or do,
and so I stood by silently as she continued her verbal assault.
“You probably want to take some pictures of people pushing their way off the boat, tripping and stumbling.
That way you can go back and show your people how the little darkies live in Jamaica.”
Then she then yelled at the people on the ferry,
“Take your time getting off, don’t crowd or push,
you don’t want this boy to take pictures of you.”
And looking at me she said,
“We don’t need your gospel,
and we don’t want you coming around to give it to us.”

And then she walked off.
She had said her peace and had left me feeling more than a little weak and confused by the force of her words.
She would have nothing to do with the good news I or anyone else in my group might have.
To her, our activities were anything but good.
And for the first time I began to question whether or not I really had any “good news” to offer her or others in that small, poor country.

What is the good news, and what do we do when the news being proclaimed doesn’t seem all that good?
I believe there are times when the good news of God’s kingdom is mighty hard to take.
There will be times when we will be tempted to say,
“We don’t need this kind of good news.”
And in saying this we may well end up rejecting the very words that can heal us.

In today’s Gospel lesson,
Jesus is rejected when he delivers the good news in his hometown of Nazareth.
Now he wasn’t rejected right away, mind you.
As a matter of fact, everyone seemed impressed with him at first.
They liked what Jesus had to say.
“All present spoke favorably of him and marveled at the appealing words which came from his lips.”

But an amazing turn-around occurs by the end of verse 28.
We read “all in the synagogue were filled with rage.
They rose up, drove him out of town,
and led him to the brow of the hill on which their city was built intending to throw Jesus over the edge of the cliff.”

What’s going on here?
How can Jesus go from “hometown celebrity” to an unwanted and hated man in mere minutes?
I believe the answer to this question has a great deal to do with how people hear and respond to the “good news.”

It’s easy to see why everyone was pleased with Jesus at the beginning of the passage.
His first words are words of hope.
Jesus claims anointing to preach good news to the poor.
He is, of course, speaking to poor people for the most part,
common peasants,
and to them a little good news would have been especially welcome.

Jesus also proclaims liberty to the captives,
recovery of sight to the blind,
and freedom to those who are oppressed.
And after each statement,
the crowd cry out, “Amen” and “Preach it Brother.”

Everyone likes good news,
everybody loves freedom and liberty,
and who, pray tell, is against the blind receiving their sight?
A few miracles would be most welcome in Nazareth,
for these people know all about captivity and oppression.
They live in a land occupied by a foreign army.
Every Roman soldier they see reminds them that they were prisoners in their own land.
And needless to say,
the state of medical care is not up to par when it comes to healing.
The lame will never walk again.
The deaf do not expect to ever hear,
and the blind certainly don’t expect to wake up one day to discover their sight has returned.

And so it’s no surprise Jesus’ opening words were well received.
We too would like to see some miracles in our rather humdrum lives.
Too often we are captives to and oppressed by the lives we lead.
too often our eyes are blind,
and almost everyone I know longs to hear some good news.
Bill McElwee, a minister friend of mine,
often tells the story of a professor of his going into an amusement arcade at a carnival.
The professor found a machine in which you could put a coin and receive a card with some good news on it.
The professor said, however, there was a sign on the machine which read, “The Good News Machine is broken.”

And that’s how it is so much of the time;
we are surrounded by bad news – it’s everywhere.
But it was no different in Jesus time.
The good news machine was broken,
and anyone coming to preach good news was welcome.
And the temptation then and now is to see Jesus as a “good news” machine,
come down from heaven to brighten up our otherwise dreary lives.
And there is some truth to this notion.

A life touched by Jesus becomes filled with grace and goodness.
But the good news doesn’t stop there.If we just preach good news to the poor,
if we just proclaim liberty for the captives,
if we merely restore sight to the blind,
and free those who are oppressed;
if we stop there, we have not heard the whole gospel.
If we stop there, the good news has not been fully proclaimed.
And let me warn you the good news that follows doesn’t always seem so good.

In the remaining verses Jesus says some things that quickly turn the crowd against him.
It seems the people want Jesus to do for his hometown what he has done elsewhere.

They may have said aloud or thought in their hearts,
“You have done great things in Capernaum,
now let’s see some of your wonderful works here in Nazareth.”
In other words, “We want a piece of the action too!”
After all, this is your hometown.

It also seems that the people expect God’s presence and love to be confined to, or at least most powerfully felt in,
their own little corner of the world.
These people feel that Jesus owes it to them.
They are the apple of God’s eye,
and no one is more deserving of God’s attention.

And it’s not hard to find these same people in church pews today.
Today’s Churches have their share of “Bless me, Lord” people.
Prosperity and “you can have whatever you want, only ask for it” gospels are very popular.
But the message Jesus proclaims is different,
and because of that his popularity soon takes a nosedive.

You see, prophets and preachers are popular as long as they claim special privileges for their listeners.
They quickly become unpopular, however,
when they begin to talk of special responsibilities.
This is what got Jesus in trouble with the folk of his hometown.
To the Jews who lived in Nazareth the areas of Syria and Sidon were beyond the boundaries of God’s country.
They were considered pagan places,
and the people who lived in them were heathen and of little importance to the God of Israel.

After all, God was supposed to care about the chosen people – the Jews, first and foremost.
All others were basically unworthy of God’s love.
And so the people exploded when Jesus reminded them that the good news included the fact that God’s love was for everybody –
for the gentiles and the heathen as much as it was for them.
Jesus even gave them a couple of examples.

He told them that there had been many widows in Israel during the days of the great famine that lasted for over three years,
but God sent Elijah out of Israel to a widow living in Sidon.
He added that there were many Israeli lepers during Elisha’s time,
but the only one healed was Namaan, a man from Syria.

In other words, Jesus was saying that God’s love is not limited to a geographical area or a particular people.
And for those people who feel more important than others,
and who hope for a special blessing because of who they are;
this is when the good news turns sour.

Jesus called the folks in his home church to recognize that God’s love was for people everywhere,
even people they might despise or hate.

Well you may be saying that that’s all nice and good preacher,
but what’s that got to do with me?
Here is where our Epistle reading comes in.
It is perhaps the most famous passage in the Bible.
We have heard it so many times, especially at weddings,
that it’s message is easily lost in the sentimentality.

Love is patient and kind;
love is not jealous or boastful;
it is not arrogant or rude.
Love does not insist on its own way;
it is not irritable or resentful;
it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right.
Love bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.

I believe we can at times come close to expressing this love.
For instance, we can affirm this love within our families.
And from time to time we widen our circles and extend this love to include our neighbors and community.
At times of great tragedy we can even reach out,
if but for a moment, to others not so close to us.
To the people of Iran, for instance, during their recent earthquake.
But Love is so much easier when we keep it within the confines of our own family, community, or nation.
Love is easy when we can keep it in Nazareth.

But the good news tells us Love is more than the tiny bit found in Nazareth, First United Methodist Church, or Pottstown, PA.
Love must go beyond our own little boundaries and reach out to people in our modern day equivalents of Syria or Sidon.
It must touch the lives today’s lepers and the outcasts.

And don’t be mistaken; there are lepers today.
We have our own outcasts.
And God’s love extends to these people.
It includes the bag ladies wandering the streets of our nation’s cities.
It includes those dying a lonely death suffering from AIDS,
whether or not we agree with their lifestyle.
It even includes the person whom you hate the most,
be that person Saddam Hussein, your neighbor,
or even that church member you haven’t spoken to in months or even years.
God’s love is not particular about whom it reaches out to;
it is no respecter of persons,
and our love should be like God’s.

Karl Barth, noted theologian and teacher, was once asked what he would tell Adolph Hitler if he could meet with him.
His reply was simple.
He said, “I would tell him that God Loves him.”

It is this kind of message that got Jesus in trouble.
All the Gospels agree that from the moment Jesus sets foot in the pulpit, things get nasty.

Will Willimon writes about a visit a friend of his had with His Holiness the Dalai Lama.
“When his Holiness speaks,” my friend said,
“everyone in the room becomes quiet, serene and peaceful.”
Not so with Jesus.
Things were fine in Nazareth until Jesus opened his mouth and all hell broke lose.

And this was only his first sermon!
One might think that Jesus could have used a more effective speaking style,
that he would save the inflammatory speech until he had taken the time to build trust,
to win people’s affection,
to put his message in the proper context,
but no.

Instead he threw the book at the,
hit them right between the eyes with Isaiah,
and then jabbed them with First Kings,
right to the jaw, left hook.
Beaten, but not bowed,
the congregation struggled to its feet,
regrouped and attempted to throw the preacher off a cliff.
And Jesus “went on his way.”

And what a way to go.
In just a few weeks, this sermon will end,
not in Nazareth but at Golgotha.
For now, Jesus has given us the slip.
Having preached the sovereign grace of God–
grace for a Syrian army officer or a poor pagan woman at Zarephath–
Jesus demonstrates that he is free even from the community that professes to be people of the Book.
The Book and its preachers are the hope of the community of faith,
not its pets or possessions.
Perhaps the church folk at Capernaum won’t put up such a fight.
Jesus moves on, ever elusive and free.

In a seminar for preachers that Will Willimon led with Stanley Hauerwas,
one pastor said, in a plaintive voice,
“The bishop sent me to a little town in South Carolina.
I preached one Sunday on the challenge of racial justice.
In two months my people were so angry that the bishop moved me.

At the next church, I was determined for things to go better.
Didn’t preach about race.
But we had an incident in town, and I felt forced to speak.
“The board met that week and voted unanimously for us to be moved.
My wife was insulted at the supermarket.
My children were beaten up on the school ground.”

Willimon says that his pastoral heart went out to this dear, suffering brother.
But Hauerwas replied, “And your point is what? We work for the living God, not a false, dead god!
Did somebody tell you it would be easy?”

Not one drop of sympathy for this brother in ministry,
not a bit of collegial concern.
And the same was true of Jesus.
Jesus moves right on from Nazareth to Capernaum, another Sabbath, another sermon,
where the congregational demons cry out to him,“Let us alone!”(Luke 4:34).
But he won’t, thank God.
He is free to administer his peculiar sort of grace,
whether we hear or refuse to hear.
This is our good news.

This is the kind of message that disturbed the good people of Nazareth,
and it is the kind of message which disturbs us.
God loves the outsiders, those in great need,
the stranger we care nothing for,
even those whom we positively despise.
This message is hard to take, but it is the good news,
and it is only through hearing this good news that we can come to salvation.

Why?
Because after all is said and done we are the outsiders,
we are the ones in need,
we too are strangers,
we are also the despised and hated.
And if God does not love even the least of his children,
then God does not love us.
And, of course, the truth is that not one of us is worthy of or deserves God’s love.
For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.
But the good news is that while we were yet sinners,
Christ died for us.
For God so loved the world that He gave us his only son,
so that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have life eternal.

Whosoever believes.
Whosoever believes.

This is part of what we celebrate at communion.
For at the Communion table all of us –
sinners, outsiders, the needy and hated and despised –
all of us are welcome,
and all of us can find the healing and transforming love of God.
We can be the “whosoever believes.”

This, my friends, is the good news.
If you have ears, hear the good news.
And if you are in need of this kind of love,
then come,
come, taste and see that the Lord our God is good.
Amen.

1. This story is and the stories about the Dalai Lama and Hauerwas are from William Willimon’s article in The Christian Century, “Living the Word.”

 

Preaching Resources for Epiphany 4C

I have just published my latest Google notebook for preaching on the texts of Epiphany 4C. You can find it here.  Please note that these resources are not original to me and that they are excerpts from my web searching on the texts.  I hope they are of some use to you.