“Life As We Know It … and other illusions”

29 September 2019

Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15; Psalm 91:1-6; 1 Timothy 6:6-19; Luke 16:19-31

Why do you suppose Jesus, who says He is “the way, the truth, and the life”, seems to refer to Moses and the prophets in this parable in such a way that suggests the Law and the prophets are “the way, the truth, and the life”; that if the rich man had paid more attention to Moses and the prophets, he would not find himself condemned? 

The story of poor Lazarus and the rich man is preceded by another exchange between Jesus and the Pharisees that may help us to understand the prominence of “Moses and the prophets”.  Jesus said to the Pharisees whom Luke referred to as “lovers of money”, “You are those who justify yourselves in the sight of others, but God knows your hearts; for what is prized by human beings is an abomination in the sight of God.  The Law and the prophets were in effect until John came; since then the good news of the kingdom of God is proclaimed, and everyone tries to enter it by force.  But it is easier for heaven and earth to pass away than for one stroke of a letter in the law to be dropped” (Luke 16:15-17).

To attempt to “enter by force” may imply an attempt to side-step the Law and the prophets and enter by some other means, such as “self-justification”.  That is, making up our own rules, deciding and settling on our own standards of goodness and justice apart from what is revealed in The Eternal Word; the “weightier matters of the Law – justice, mercy, and faith” (Matthew 23:23); the things these teachers of the Law should have known, taught, and practiced. 

Jesus, however, says, “BUT it is easier for heaven and earth to pass away than for one stroke of a letter in the law to be dropped”.  This is consistent with John’s proclamation of Jesus as “the Word which became flesh” and Jesus’ own declaration that He did not come to do away with the Law but, rather, by “fulfilling” the Law and the prophets, showing us what it looks like “in real life”.   REAL life; not the illusion that is apart from “Moses and the prophets”.

The rich man is not named as a thief, a murderer, or an adulterer.  In our language and according to our own cultural standards, it may well be said he was a “good ol’ boy”.  In his own mind, as with many others then (as the Pharisees) and now, he probably considered himself “a good person”.  It may be the religious teachers affirmed this false narrative by falling all over themselves trying to get chummy with him, to curry his financial favor.  We do this now.  How can we believe it would not have been done then? 

Yet it does not seem this man was cursed only because he was wealthy.  He may have even tithed faithfully, such as the Pharisee proclaimed in Luke 18 (9-14) in comparing his own righteousness with that of the lowly tax collector who only confessed his sin and asked for mercy.  The confession of the tax collector was received by the Kingdom; the declaration of self-righteousness was utterly rejected. 

There are a lot of assumptions we can make, of course, but we have to read this entire chapter in the broader biblical context of Moses and the prophets because wealth – in and of itself – is as relative as “feasting sumptuously” (Luke 16:19). 

So the parable is not a blanket condemnation of wealth; it is rather a warning, a tale of caution to those of means, whether much or little.  In terms of material possessions, it seems more a condemnation of those who become possessed by and obsessed with their possessions.  The rich man was far more aware of his wealth, his comfort, and perhaps his social status than he was aware of Lazarus sitting at his very gate. 

Because the rich man was possessed by his possessions, because he had surrendered and dedicated himself to his own comfort and had effectively become his own ‘god’ with his own moral standard, he was rendered incapable of seeing anyone or anything that was of no use to him.  To paraphrase what Paul wrote to the Romans, “[He] is without excuse; for though [he] knew God, [he] did not honor Him as God or give thanks to Him but became futile in [his] thinking, and [his] senseless mind was darkened” (1:20b-21). 

I bet you thought the first chapter of Romans was dedicated only to that “issue” which has the entire United Methodist Church in a twist.  We can be sure, however, that “issue” is no worse than the lust and the evil Jesus is referring to in the story.  In fact, that false narrative which has been co-opted by a relative few has probably clouded our minds and hearts to the “weightier matters of the Law – justice, mercy, and faith”.  Even the dogs that licked Lazarus’ sores were of more comfort than the rich man!

In his torment, however, notice another element of the rich man’s anguish.  Having been so possessed and exalted by his wealth, his status, and his power, and still seeing Lazarus much in the same way as before his death, the rich man requested Lazarus be sent to serve him, to comfort him even though he would not comfort Lazarus.  When Abraham denied that request, he then asked that Lazarus be sent to his brothers.  In a manner of speaking, he perhaps still thought of Lazarus as somehow beneath him, so possessed by a life he once knew but would not know again, the temporal life he chose for himself over the fullness of life offered through the “weightier matters of the Law – justice, mercy, and faith”. 

We cannot conceive of the misery endured by Lazarus nor can we empathize, but we must not casually dismiss his suffering in such a way as to surrender ourselves to the temptation of declaring, “There but for the grace of God go I”. 

Instead of simply being grateful that we do not share the fate of Lazarus, we are compelled by Moses and the prophets to use what we are grateful for to relieve the suffering of those who sit in Lazarus’ place today, to satisfy the longing (rather than the covetous lust) of so many who would be grateful for our table scraps, those who could live easily and well on what we choose to throw out.

The Way, the Truth, and the Life that is the Anointed One of The Father IS the Law and the prophets taught and fulfilled; that which Jesus personifies; that which our Shepherd perfects.  The Way we must journey together, the Truth of the Eternal Word which “is the same yesterday, today, and forever”, and the Life we are called and consecrated to live through our baptism and confirmation – that Life which is without end. 

We may not be of the Chosen People, but we are no less chosen for our Lord’s purposes as Christ Himself proclaims, “You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit, fruit that will last …” (John 15:16); just as He also proclaimed to those who were of the tradition and faith of Moses and the prophets, “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14).

Rather than “There but for the grace of God I go”, it must become for us, “There by the grace of God I must go”.  For the place of Lazarus is the very heart of Moses and the prophets, the very place of Christ Jesus Himself (“Whatever you do for the least of these, you do for Me”).  This is the Life for which we are saved, the Life to which we are called.  Anything short of this is only an illusion which will soon fade into oblivion – as the rich man who had no name and no real life at all.  Amen.

What We Believe: Making Disciples

8 September 2019

Jeremiah 18:1-11; Philemon 6-17; Luke 14:25-33

“You have nothing to do but to save souls.  Therefore, spend and be spent in this work.”  John Wesley, 12 Rules for Helpers (lay preachers)

Although John Wesley instructed his lay preachers to be entirely about saving souls, our Shepherd and Lord charged His Church in a different way: “make disciples … baptize them … and teach them” (Matthew 28:19-20).  It seems a far cry from “saving souls”, but that may have more to do with the language we choose; that “being saved” is much more worthy of our time than “being disciples”, always “going on to perfection” (Hebrews 6:1), always learning to “be perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Matthew 5:48).

To fulfill this charge, it becomes necessary for the Church to so order – or perhaps reorder - its life – and perhaps language - to the missional end to “make disciples”; we must “spend and be spent” to no other task.  Before this can happen, though, we must first learn to listen. 

What is perhaps even more shocking than Jesus declaring His own flesh and blood as “real food and real drink” (John 6:55) is His declaration that if we do not “hate” those closest to us, we can never be His disciples.  Just as the “real food and drink” teaching caused many to walk away as it is written, we can easily imagine at least an equal number turning away from Jesus at this point in His ministry.

Language matters, so the idea of hating anyone, let alone those we love the most, is not well received no matter who it comes from.  When we say we hate someone or something, we know what we mean.  These persons or things have earned our disdain by violating our lives in some way, and we don’t want to be anywhere near them.  We protect ourselves and those we love by keeping what we “hate” at a safe distance.

So when Jesus admonishes us to “hate” our own blood, rather than try to change the meaning of the word itself, that word which disturbs us most, it becomes necessary for us to engage more carefully.  We cannot write it off as an ancient lesson for an ancient people no longer relevant to us.  If Jesus Christ is “the same yesterday, today, and forever” as it is written in the Letter to the Hebrews (13:8), what He meant then, He means now.

In one of my classes a few years ago, we were each invited to give an introduction; where we come from, how we came to understand our calling, etc.  There was this one guy telling his story, and in the course of his story which went into very great detail, I heard him declare multiple times each moment when he was “saved”.  I don’t mean he was emphasizing that he was saved.  By the way he was telling his story, he was “saved” several different times.

So at a time when I thought I was getting a handle on what people mean when they declare their salvation, I became even more confused because by the end of his story, I had no idea what he meant even though I’m sure he did.  Within the broader context of his story, as best I can recall, I wonder if he was telling how he was “called”; and in each subsequent instance, his calling was being affirmed.

It can happen, then, that if we are not careful to try and understand what is written in the Scriptures or hear from the pulpit, not only do others fail to understand what we mean, but we can take something which is priceless and carelessly toss it into the dollar bin.  Like the Holy Name itself, if we are not careful about speaking the Holy Name reverently and with as much respect and awe as possible, it becomes just another word; cheap, easy, and culturally subjective.

It is easy to imagine many who walked away from Jesus at this point because they not only failed to understand what He meant in suggesting we must “hate” our families in order to be disciples; it could well be they didn’t bother trying to understand what He meant.  And it is very likely we don’t try any harder, choosing instead to suggest that’s not what He meant … and then walking away – but still calling ourselves “believers”.

Making disciples should not be confused with striving to be a “relevant” church, which seems to be all the rage today.  As one writer shared, it is much more important that the Church be “repentant” rather than “relevant”.  That is, before we can expect others to “get right with God”, we must first make sure we are working to that end ourselves.  Being “saved” comes near to suggesting we are done.  We have arrived.  We are safe, no longer in any danger, and in no need of further instruction. 

Making disciples is not a numbers game, as when King David ordered a census and was punished by The Lord (2 Samuel 24).  The desire for numbers can be likened to a source of pride which precedes a fall (Proverbs 16:18), it can lead to a false sense of achievement, or, perhaps in David’s case, a false sense of security, trusting in human metrics rather than in Divine Providence. 

Making disciples involves sharing and telling the Truth, no matter how unpleasant or “irrelevant” it may seem to our setting, our chosen narrative.  We cannot possibly share what we refuse to embrace ourselves.  The Church is not a club for like-minded people; it is the community where we gather, where we pray, where we hear and study the Word, where we receive the Sacraments, where we offer our gifts and our hearts to our Father and to one another, where we are being challenged and transformed rather than merely being comforted.

We all need to be comforted from time to time, but our greater need is to grow in Christ, not to stand “just as I am”.  What our Shepherd is expressing in Luke’s passage is not only for new persons seeking a relationship with Him for the first time; it is a continuing challenge especially for those of us who have become perhaps complacent.  That is, if all is well with “me”, then all must be well period. 

However, the vitality of the Church is measured precisely by Whom we love and how we go about expressing that Love.  If we are to “make disciples”, we must first be willing to live as disciples.  But as our Lord Jesus teaches, we have to know what the true cost will be.  He Himself needs us to know.  And as we understand that our families are our own lives, our own blood, what we are hearing Jesus teach is that if we are unwilling to love The Lord with our whole heart and full self, holding nothing back, we can never really love those closest to us, let alone a strange “neighbor” whom we do not particularly care for.

The passage is not about “hating”; it is about what we love first and fully and the price of that Love which was first offered to us.  It is that which we are called to share without encumbrances – because that is how it was shared with us.  Amen.

What We Believe: The First Will Be Last

1 September 2019

Psalm 82; Exodus 20:2-17; Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16; Luke 14:1, 7-14

It was told that after President Reagan was shot in 1981, he was no less his humorous self.  And I think what was most endearing about him was his willingness to poke fun at himself.  Aside from his telling the surgical team, “I hope you’re all Republicans”, and telling his wife he “forgot to duck”, after some days in the hospital and round-the-clock care, he told a nurse, “If I had gotten this much attention in Hollywood, I would have stayed there”.

St. Augustine believed humility to be the foundation of all other virtues because from that sense of being real with oneself, that we ain’t “all that and a bag of chips”, that there is always someone or something more important that any one of us at any given time, there is room for other virtues to develop and grow - including faith itself.  If we lack humility, however, if we are always more concerned with ourselves than with the well-being of others, there can be no room for virtue at all.

Though virtue is generally defined as behavior showing high moral standards, it may be said the Church and the Scriptures define virtue as “holy habits”, which acknowledges virtue as mindful choice.  Since moral standards are subjective to any given generation, and especially in the post-Christian world in which the Church’s influence has sharply diminished, it serves us best to consider virtue as the product of a submissive heart.

St. Jude wrote about those who “turn the grace of our God into unrestrained immorality” (vs 4) – and let us remember “immorality” is not exclusively about issues of physical intimacy.  He also wrote that these “are destroyed by what they know instinctively, as though they were irrational animals” (vs 10).

We’ve talked about this before.  Though a well-developed conscience can be a trustworthy guide, our base instincts - those impulses innate to our being which are focused on self-preservation - can and do often betray us just like unchecked emotions.  We cannot be faithful both to our God and to our impulses.  One will be pushed out because we trust the other more.  It’s like trying to serve two masters which our Shepherd and Teacher says is impossible (Matthew 6:24).

Humility is mentioned often in the Bible and Jesus Himself showed us what humility looks like, and yet it is perhaps one of the most neglected of the biblical virtues.  Unfortunately, like the “meek who will inherit the earth”, we often see such attributes as a sign of weakness, believing our true strength is measured by how “on top” of things we are, how aggressive we are willing to be in going after the things we want. 

Yet by the biblical virtues which are fruits of the Spirit of our God and our willingness to participate, we are reminded there are some things – persons, actually – much more deserving of our time and attention than only getting what we want. 

Humility, however, is not about completely neglecting our own needs, but it does require us not only to thoughtfully discern the difference between a genuine need and what we only desire but to be equally mindful of the genuine needs of others.  The idea of “suffering”, as biblically expressed, is not about deliberately bringing misery onto ourselves.  Rather, “suffering” is the strength to take a back seat to something with more meaning for others than it would mean for ourselves.  It is the difference between our desire for a turkey sandwich and our neighbor’s need to eat.

This does not mean others are always more deserving, but it does mean we should not take it upon ourselves to decide whose need is greater.  A humble heart refuses to be concerned with the pettiness about who is more deserving.  Humility submits to the reality of the needs of others and trusts that our own needs will be met in due time.  That is, a humble heart is focused on a Promise that “the first will be last”.

Even though the Letter to the Hebrews emphasizes “mutual love” (13:1), we are also reminded that The Lord can and will show up in the most unlikely places and perhaps even with the most unlikely faces. “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it”. 

This may well be a reference to Abraham in the wilderness as “three men” showed up unexpectedly (Genesis 18:1-8).  Though the chapter opens by telling us “The Lord appeared to Abraham”, the text says, “Abraham looked up and suddenly saw three men standing near him” (vs 2).  Presumably not knowing who these men were at first, Abraham offered them food, drink, and a chance to rest. 

In a modern setting, Abraham could easily have said, “What?”  Think about how we would respond if we were sitting on our front porch and strangers approached … or even were “suddenly standing near”!  We might be inclined to say perhaps, “May I help you?”, but what we are really digging for is “What do you want?”  Though there is the opportunity to express The Lord’s hospitality, they are “instinctively” perceived as a potential threat.

Humility, as expressed by Abraham, the very father of our faith, does not presume anything.  Before the Law was revealed to Moses which, among other things, commands kindness to strangers because “you were once strangers in a strange land”, Abraham personified it.

Fully trusting that The Lord will meet our needs, as our Shepherd and Teacher assures us, we see first to the needs of others.  Whether they will return the favor is beside the point of genuine humility.  In fact, it should be said there is perhaps nothing more un-Christ-like than the idea of “looking out for number 1”.  As the Letter to the Hebrews states, “Remember those who are in prison as though you are in prison with them; remember those who are being tortured as though you yourselves are being tortured”.  That is, we “bear one another’s burdens” as though they are, in fact, our burdens to bear.

If we hope and pray for a kinder, more decent and gentle nation, it must begin with us.  Fighting fire with fire, “returning evil for evil” has not worked yet, and so I wonder how we think it will suddenly start working now.  In fact, the idea of responding in kind is precisely what St. Jude was referring to as the “instincts which will destroy irrational animals”.

In the end, putting ourselves in the lesser positions of personal privilege and even places of honor is what Jesus refers to in teaching us “the first will be last, and the last will be first”.  That is, we can try and seek our reward in the here-and-now, a reward which will, at best, be here today and gone tomorrow … or we can trust that genuine humility will win out in the end in our Father’s good time and according to His good will.

Humility does not come easily to many, perhaps most.  It is, like the other virtues, developed over time with consistency, more than a little patience, and a whole lot of faith – because in the end, humility is entirely about loving The Lord our God with all we have and with all we are, holding nothing back, AND loving our neighbors as purposefully and as willfully as we love ourselves. 

We are, in this life and in this world, being prepared for something Greater in the world to come.  Let us resolve to live as though this were True – because it is.  Amen.