Sola Fide

27 October 2019

Leviticus 18:1-5; Psalm 65; Romans 10:1-13; Luke 18:9-14

Paul Tillich, an early 20^th-century Lutheran theologian, as he had commented on the Apostle Paul's assertion that the gospel is a stumbling block (1 Corinthians 1:23), once said the real danger may be in stumbling over the wrong thing.  For me, the “wrong thing” to stumble over may be like getting caught up in the false dichotomy between the Reformation’s “sola fide” (by faith alone) and the apostle James’ clear statement, “not by faith alone” (2:24).

I thought about that as I was reading today’s portion of Paul’s Epistle to the Romans.  He wrote, in part, “Gentiles, who did not strive for righteousness, have attained it, that is, righteousness through faith; but Israel, who did strive for the righteousness that is based on the law, did not succeed in fulfilling that law.  Why not?  Because they did not strive for it on the basis of faith, but as if it were based on works” (Romans 9:30-32).

He continues in chapter 10, “Being ignorant of the righteousness that comes from God, and seeking to establish their own, they have not submitted to God’s righteousness.  For Christ is the end of the law so there may be righteousness for everyone who believes” (vss 3-4).

St. Peter also wrote, “Some parts of [Paul’s] letters are hard to understand, which ignorant and unstable people distort, as they do the rest of the Scriptures, to their own destruction” (2 Peter 3:16).  That is, these “ignorant and unstable people” make it mean what they want it to mean rather than to pray for wisdom and learn what it actually means.

Romans can be hard to understand because Paul is addressing two different groups – Gentile converts and Jewish converts - but he also jumps from faith to law and back again. 

There is one statement from Romans, however, that demands attention as we navigate our Gospel reading from Luke about the “self-righteous” Pharisee: “Christ is the end of the law …”  For our purposes, and as I suspect Paul was trying to convey given the overall context of Romans, when he wrote “Christ is the end of the law”, what may be closer to accurate is, “Christ is the goal of the law” – the Law as a “means to an end”.  At no time, however, does Paul dismiss the Law of Moses as unimportant.

Just as Jesus proclaimed He did not “come to do away with the law but to fulfill it”, we must learn to read, to pray, to live, and to finally understand how the Law is perfected in faith to our goal of sanctification, spiritual perfection.  As The Lord spoke to Israel and Jesus affirmed in the Sermon on the Mount, “Be perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect”.

We should also bear in mind Jesus’ moment with the rich man in Matthew 19.  The man asked how to gain eternal life.  Jesus mentioned the Law of Moses to which the man responded he had done all those things his entire life.  Then Jesus upped the ante by adding faith: “If you want to be perfect, sell all your possessions and give your money to the poor.  Then you will have treasure in heaven” (Matthew 19:21).

According to the Law, the Pharisee in Luke’s Gospel was right on the money.  He was not a thief, a man without principles, or an adulterer.  He fasted and tithed regularly.  Strictly by the Law of Moses, he was, like the rich man, a righteous man.  And although in his prayer he gives a nod of acknowledgment to The Lord, it cannot truly be said he was a man of faith.  If he believed in anything, it may have been in his own awesomeness.

The tax collector, on the other hand, did not seem to have much to be thankful for but much more to be sorry for.  Seeming to understand the depth of his sinful state, he could not even bring himself to look up to heaven but could only “beat his breast and say, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner’.”

So through the Word by which we will be judged (John 12:48), the tax collector “went down to his home justified rather than the [Pharisee]”.

How can that be?  It is a good thing to be upfront and honest with The Lord – and with ourselves - in our prayers, especially in our prayers of confession, and it is a good thing always not to be thieves, rogues, or adulterers.  So how is it the Pharisee gained nothing by his prayer, according to Jesus, but the tax collector gained his very life?  It is because the Pharisee “loved human glory more than the glory which comes from God” (John 12:43).

We may not think of ourselves as “thieves, rogues, or adulterers”, but as a childhood priest once told us, “there is always something to confess – if we are willing to be honest and if we recognize our constant need to grow in faith and in love – and if we realize that won’t happen without The Lord”.

Yet if we become so overly confident to the point that we no longer feel a need to confess anything but do actually see ourselves as better than, well, anyone, we have crossed a very dangerous line.  Self-righteousness enables us – in fact, encourages us – to judge others; i.e., the poor are victims of their own carelessness; illegal immigrants are just law-breakers; prison inmates got what they deserved.  And the list goes on.

Self-righteousness – whether by our own awesome deeds or the self-proclaimed salvation we refuse to live into – draws us into a false sense of spiritual security.  Self-righteousness allows us to look down on others.  As bad as that alone may seem, there is an even worse element: the utter loss of humility, and the false sense that we are somehow on equal footing with The Father.

As vital as faith is to the life of the soul AND the life of the Church, faith is only as good as its object.  This is the danger of misunderstanding what “by faith alone” means: that we would focus on faith in and of itself and lose sight of the Object of our faith. 

The question is not whether we have faith; the question is whether we believe in the right thing.  We can have all the sincerely held beliefs we want, but are they true?  Are our beliefs true only because we need them to be true?  If the thing we believe in centers on what we choose to believe, then our faith is worthless.  It is not faith alone that saves, but trusting fully in Christ Jesus enough to follow Him, obey Him, and long for more.

The Lord spoke through the prophet Zechariah, “Return to Me, and I will return to you” (1:3).  And when humanity did not return to Him, He chose to come to us – to take us by the hand and lead us Home.  Do we have faith enough to take Him by the hand and allow ourselves to be led?  That, dear friends, is the faith which saves – because it is He who saves.  Amen.

From Whence The Truth Comes

20 October 2019

2 Timothy 3:14-4:5; Luke 18:1-18

One of the most fascinating novels I’ve read is James Michener’s “The Source”.  It is set around an archaeological dig in Israel; and while the story is largely fiction, the author uses real archaeological and historical data to create the many stories that unfold with each new discovery.  That is, the deeper they dig, the further back in history they go.  What is revealed, in part, is the evolution of religion from paganism to Judaism and Christianity. 

I thought about that book as I have been experiencing my own crisis of faith in questioning the evolution of Christianity.  I’ve begun reaching back to the early Church Fathers to gain some perspective on the development of Christian doctrine and practices because, frankly, I think modern Christianity has run so far off the rails in a vain effort to appease the modern culture that I wonder whether the Fathers – or the apostles - would recognize the Church today.  It seems that the more relevant the Church tries to be to the modern culture, the more irrelevant it becomes for believers … and The Truth.

It's not always a bad thing to think of ways to reach new generations, but what are we reaching them with?  Political activism?  The integrity and the transformational power of the Gospel is at stake.  Some compromises can be reached in the means of communication but never in the core of what we are called to communicate.  Sometimes – like love – the Truth hurts.

It is not that the Truth is intended to be hurtful, but genuine transformation in growing pains often is when the Gospel calls us away from a former life and our former selves and into the Fullness of Life in Christ.  That Gospel, the fullness of which does not at all mesh with the modern pop culture, is a whole new life.  Yet, even in its newness, that New Life requires that we always – ALWAYS – first consider the Source “from whence The Truth comes”.

Consider Paul’s encouragement to Timothy (2 Timothy 3:14-4:5).  He wrote, “Continue in what you have learned and firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it, and how from childhood you have known the sacred writings”. 

Although Paul seems to put himself up as the source from whom “you have learned and firmly believed”, he nevertheless points to the ultimate source of “sound doctrine”, the likes of which will be rejected by a fickle church more amused by novelty than willing to be fed by sound doctrine.  Although Timothy and subsequent generations will face cultures moving further and further away from The Truth as it is revealed in the Scriptures, Paul is encouraging Timothy to be always mindful of his “knowledge of sacred writings” (the Scriptures; in this case, what is commonly referred to as “Old Testament”). 

The “time when people will not put up with sound doctrine” was already upon the early Church – if not only a generation or two away.  It is not only our own contemporary culture which has tried to subjectify some core components of Christian doctrine and make it a matter of personal opinion; it has been happening for centuries.  I wonder, though, if it happens not because of some intentional rebellion against The Lord more than it is just human nature to become infatuated with anything that is “new and improved”.

I often think of where we once lived, a town in which there were three well- and long-established United Methodist Churches.  Once a fourth one was built, there was a significant falling away from some of the other long-established churches in a rush to be a part of something “new”.  It wasn’t good or bad; it just was.

Some (mostly Catholic theologians) have argued Paul may have foreseen something like the 16^th-century Reformation, but that observation may be a bit shallow.  Not perhaps entirely untrue, but also not completely honest.  Because of the corruption of the Roman Church and the popes who were controlled, bought, and paid for by rival kings, anything approved by these popes – including doctrine - had to have been considered corrupted.  That is to say, one who is corrupted can only convey corruption.

However, it must be remembered one could not go to a corner bookstore and buy a Bible or download an app.  Many, especially the significantly illiterate class, depended on the Church to teach and to convey “The Truth”.  For most, the source of “sound doctrine” was the Church, the bishop, and the local priest.  Yet if a bishop or a priest were corrupted and publicly revealed, the doctrine was no longer sound; and the source “from whence The Truth comes” was undermined.

To be sure, the Church is designated as the guardian of the Gospel and the teacher of sound doctrine – as long as we are not removed from The Source “From Whence The Truth Comes”.  Yet if there was any good thing which came from the Reformation, it was the broadened idea that the “priesthood of believers” (1 Peter 2:5-9) was not restricted to Judaism or to clergy.  It was the idea that we who are baptized are endowed by the Spirit of the Living God to live into that priesthood, that we, too, may, “proclaim the praises of Him who called [us] out of darkness [and] into His marvelous light”.

None of this, however, can ever be a mere matter of personal opinion.  The reason is simple: an opinion – particularly a biblically uninformed opinion – falsely, even defiantly, elevates the opinion-holder as The Ultimate Source “from whence The Truth comes”.  The Truth becomes subjective, and we are justified not by Christ Jesus but by our own pride, our own inflated sense of worth.

One example would be the Protestant notion of the prohibition of baptizing infants.  There is no such biblical reference that expressly prohibits infant baptism.  In fact, there is no specific baptismal prescription for exactly when or how baptism must be done.  We are only taught – “From Whence The Truth Comes” – that we are to be baptized. 

This is not to say one is right and the other is wrong.  It is only to say that long-standing traditions must be measured by the full weight and context of what is written; infant or believer’s baptism, sprinkling, pouring, or full immersion cannot be defined or argued for or against with any single verse.  That Jesus was baptized in a river may imply one thing or one way; that the Philippian jailer of Acts 16 who had his entire household baptized based only on his own conversion – no river is in that narrative - would imply another.

There are many long-held traditions that make perfect sense only because we’ve been doing them for generations, but it is long past time to reconnect to The Source “From Whence The Truth Comes”.  Because in the end, “When the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on earth?”  Or will He find only misguided, ill-informed, but well-intended traditions, opinions, and half-truths that are more the source of our comfort and faith than The Truth Himself? 

The world has lost its mind, but what is most troublesome is that the Church has lost a strong, confident sense of self.  When we are more concerned with being right than with being righteous, we reveal we have no idea Who the Head of the Church really is.  And we are too far removed from “the sacred writings” From Whence The Truth Comes”.  And our children and our grandchildren will pay the price.

Remember Who reached out to us when we were at our lowest and most vulnerable?  Remember Who has been there from the beginning?  Remember Who will be there when time as we know it will stand still?  He is Christ Jesus, the Eternal “Word which became flesh”.  It is He “From Whence The Truth Comes” – for He Himself is the Truth.  Amen.

Blessings Where They Are

13 October 2019

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7; Psalm 66:1-12; 2 Timothy 2:8-15; Luke 17:11-19

Blessings are funny things.  We think we know a blessing when it lands in our laps only because it happens to be a thing or a circumstance we desire.  The blessing as we know it fits a mold we have carved out for it, and it suits us.  The blessing may be exactly what we had in mind and what we worked to achieve.  There is an old saying, however, that most of us rarely take to heart though we may be quick to repeat it: “Be careful what you wish for”.

I doubt anyone would have considered the Babylonian Exile to have been a blessing at the time, and I doubt many look upon the Exile now as a good thing on any level.  We suppose the Exile had to happen to punish Judah’s unfaithfulness – and to a degree, that is exactly what happened. 

It may also be said the people of Judah got exactly what they had wished for, judging by the behavior for which they incurred Divine wrath: a godless society with no rules, no limits, no restrictions, no sense of personal duty or social responsibility to others … no Divine Law with “thou shalt” or “thou shalt not”.   Just freedom.  Pure, unencumbered freedom to do and to live as it pleased them.

What they did not know – what we rarely consider even today – is that unencumbered freedom comes with a heavy price few are willing to pay.  In fact, it may be said the freedom they thought they were enjoying came with its own chains and shackles – trading a benevolent Master who commands love for one’s neighbor for a less merciful master with no regard for neighbor except for perhaps how that neighbor might be of some benefit to them.   They exchanged the merciful God for another “god” – themselves – and learned the hard way that they were far more dictatorial, far more rigid, and far less forgiving.

Yet think of the philosophical question: can we appreciate or even know what is good if we never experience the evil?  Can we appreciate good health if we’ve never experienced illness?  Can we appreciate wealth if we have never experienced poverty?  Can we really know and enjoy freedom if we fail to appreciate the moral and social responsibilities that come with that freedom?  Can we really be strong if we trample upon the weak?

Apart from the Exile, there may have been no way Judah (or Israel … or we) could answer these questions.  Their religious leaders, “from prophet to priest, everyone dealing falsely” (vs 13) were being less than honest with them, “treating the wounds of My people carelessly, preaching peace when there is no peace” (Jeremiah 6:14). 

And it wasn’t as though things just fell apart because the people had been so careless, so faithless, so greedy for their own personal gain though that cannot be discounted completely.  For the sake of His Covenant, The Lord decreed that the people of Judah, if they wanted to take their medicine and live, should submit to the yoke of Nebuchadnezzar (Jeremiah 27:11).  In fact, any nation that refused to “put its neck under the yoke of the king of Babylon, I will punish with the sword, with famine, and with pestilence, says The Lord, until I have completed its destruction by [Nebuchadnezzar’s] hand” (Jeremiah 27:8).

Everything the people of Judah once held and cherished and took for granted as “blessings” would soon be their curse, and they would have nothing left but the benevolence and will of a Gentile king appointed over them by Divine decree.  Now how can we see a blessing from any of this?  Facing such an external and an internal threat, how would we not more believe those prophets who were judged as “liars” who were telling the people of Judah all is well, the “blessing” believed to be the homeland, the Promised Land (Jeremiah 27:14), rather than believe the prophet Jeremiah himself who physically bore the yoke of oppression for all to see (Jeremiah 27:2)?

The truth is we believe what we wish to believe.  In spite of what is actually written in the Scriptures, in spite of 2000 years of Christian teaching, in spite of thousands of years of moral guidance, much of what is written in the First Testament is beyond not our capacity to believe – but our willingness to trust.  That The Lord would deliberately not only turn His back on His own Chosen people but would actually decree a Gentile king to reign over them for a period is hard to imagine.  What is harder still is to appreciate the blessing bestowed on Judah by this incomprehensible decree.

Judah had to be punished, but there also had to be restraint.  Much like the sentence of “no more than forty lashes” lest one be completely degraded (Deuteronomy 25:3), the sentence of exile had to be carried out for the sake of future generations – and for the sake of the Covenant which would endure long after the exile had ended.  For this period, however, there had to be a serious course correction lest Judah run itself completely over the edge and into the abyss of nothingness.

It is indeed written, “God is love” (1 John 4:8).  Yet as my disdain for “bumper sticker theology” goes, that very simple and yet very profound statement must be carefully unpacked within an appropriate biblical and objective – rather than subjective - context.  For the God who “so loved the world that He sent His Son” into the world is the same God who put His own people under the yoke of Nebuchadnezzar.  And for much the same reasons: to preserve His Covenant and to save His people from themselves!  Sometimes love hurts, but it is love nonetheless.

Would a parent do any less for the sake of a child who has deviated from the righteous path?  Do we not punish our own children one way or another solely for the sake of course correction?  They may only appreciate such a course correction years later when they begin to “pay for their raising”, but they will not forget the care, the concern, the profound and enduring love that comes from a firm resolve and, yes, sometimes a strong hand.

Yet like the loss of privilege in being grounded (so to speak), Judah had a life to live as a people because the Covenant was still before them.  “Eat, live, marry, and make babies – multiply and do not decrease”.  Through faithful life and living, they were to seek the well-being of the place to which they had been sent – because they were still Covenant people.  It wasn’t what they would ever wish for, but they still bore the mark of their God; and the well-being of the city to which they were exiled would be their own well-being and to the glory of The Lord.

It is often a bitter pill we must swallow, but we must “judge ourselves properly so we do not come under judgment” (1 Corinthians 11:31).  We cannot pretend to live in a bubble of peace when peace for others is so elusive.  And though I do not claim to be a prophet, The Word of The Lord assures us the welfare of our towns and our nation is not dependent on who is in the White House or the Congress; not now, not in the past, not in the future.  The well-being of ourselves as a people, as a congregation of faith, is entirely dependent on the benevolence of the God we always claim to love but often serve conditionally – that is, as it suits us. 

Our own Promised Land, the “New Jerusalem”, is yet to be.  Until that time, let us find and appreciate the blessings we have and make the most of them … for His glory rather than only for our own sake.  For when we concern ourselves with the well-being of our entire community, there will we find our own well-being.  Then will we know what “blessing” really is.  Amen.