Sunday, October 25, 2009

Reformation Day - Year B

“Let every person be subject to the governing authorities;” Paul says, “for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Do you wish to have no fear of the authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive its approval; for it is God’s servant for your good.”

On what planet was Paul living on when he wrote that? “Rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad.,” he says.

Really? Is that so?

Paul should know better. After all, as a Roman citizen he knew what the Roman government was capable of. He was eye-witness to brutal executions. The empire-building on the backs of slaves. He watched as people were forced to worship Caesar. No matter what religion they were.

In Jerusalem, he knew all about Herod's slaughter of 1000s of innocent children. The corrupt, puppet governments. The two-faced, double-dealing leaders.

This passage makes no sense when you think of where Paul came from. Or where any of us come from.

And this passage defies logic when placed along side of the rest of Paul's message. In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul rails against the “rulers of this age.” Earlier in Romans, Paul demands that Christians confront the “principalities and powers” of this world. Not to submit to them.

This passage seems shoe-horned into this letter. As if it's not meant to be here. It feels out of place. Like someone put words in Paul's mouth.

In fact, a small group of scholars say that's exactly what happened. They say that since this passage doesn't make sense in either Paul's historic context or with the rest of his message, that it must have been put in this letter by another hand. Someone with a political axe to grind. Because this passage definitely DOESN'T sound like Paul by any estimation.

Other bible scholars twist themselves into knots trying to justify Paul's blessing of Caesar's authority. They say that the only authority that can ever exist can only come from God, because God is the source of all authority, and gives it out to whomever God wants. And since Caesar had authority, that authority must come from God. Pretty much what Paul was saying.

And they can quote Jesus standing before Pilate, the symbol of Caesar's power: "You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above” (John 19:11).

But Jesus didn't submit to Pilate. Not in the way Paul is saying we should. And Jesus definitely didn't call Pilate “good.”

And if Paul were to follow his own advice he would never have found himself in jail so often.

It turns out folks who defend this passage are often defending their own authority over others. Defending the social and political status quo over those who are asking for change. And so this reading of this passage is a recipe for tyranny.

Others suggest that Paul was trying to level the political playing field. They point out that Paul says “EVERYONE” should submit to the governing authorities. No one gets a free pass. No one gets special treatment. Everyone is equal under the law. And since everyone is equal, everyone can participate. Every voice is heard. No one is powerless.

If this interpretation is correct, then this is subversive stuff. Rome liked their hierarchy. They luxuriated in knowing their place in society. And the game was to move up in their world.

And here, some say, Paul is turning this upside down and flattening it. For Paul, hierarchies are destroyed and everyone has a say. Paul is advocating a democratic society where all people have a chance to participate.

This sounds good! Especially when Paul's the guy who said that “there is no jew or greek, slave or free, male or female. All are one in Christ Jesus” (Gal 3:28). Radical social equality was a big part of Paul's message. Paul was all about tearing down walls between people, opening doors, to let the fresh wind of freedom blow through.

So, maybe this passage is hammering this message home even further.

But this interpretation ignores the problem of tyranny and corruption. How is the Christian to respond if the divinely appointed governing authorities steam-roll over the people they're supposed to govern? Paul creates no mechanism for holding leaders accountable for their behaviour or decisions.

Paul simply says, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement.”

Again, this passage makes no theological or practical sense. It's hopeless naïve. Dangerously unrealistic.

But then I came across someone who said that Paul was making a joke. He was being ironic. Even sarcastic. He had his tongue firmly planted in his cheek. It's the only explanation that makes sense to me.

“Let every person be subject to the governing authorities;” Paul says, “for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Do you wish to have no fear of the authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive its approval; for it is God’s servant for your good.”

It has to be a joke. Try this:

“Let every person be subject to their bank and credit card provider. Don't bother checking your statement each week, because banks and credit card providers come from God. After all, God is the God of all our resources, and banks and credit card providers are faithful stewards of God's abundance. If you question your bank, your are questioning God, and you will incur judgment.”

Or...

“Let every person be subject to the used car salesmen. They have your best interest in mind. God has appointed them to make sure that you are able to get from place to place without hassle. They will give you the best car for the best deal. They are only worried about you; your mobility and your safety. To question or resist the divinely appointed used car salesmen, you are are questioning or resisting God, and you will incur judgment.”

You hear what I'm saying? That's what the Roman Christians heard when Paul talked about blindly obeying the government.

Martin Luther often did the same thing. Often he preached such outrageous sermons that people couldn't take them seriously.

Although Luther, in his commentary on this passage, took it at face value, he didn't practice it with Church authorities. He said this passage applied to secular authority, not to church authority. Which, of course, makes no sense. Authority is authority. And you could make a stronger case for church authority coming from God more than secular authority.

So, how then should WE read this passage? What do we do with it? What was Paul REALLY trying to say?

To be honest, I don't know. None of us fully obey this passage at face value. And rightly so. Both Paul and Luther didn't do so – they failed righteously in following this bit of scripture. And the world is better for it.

So what does this say about the bible?

Within our denonimation there is a huge fight taking place. Some say it's about interpretation of the bible. Some say it's about the authority of the bible itself.

Some are advocating what is called a “plain sense” reading of the bible, which means that “the bible says what it says that's the end of the story. No interpretation required. And our job is to obey what it says.”

And while that sounds good, we've seen from today's reading that it's not as simple as it looks. There is no such thing as a “plain sense” reading of the bible. We all bring our backgrounds, our histories, our ways of looking at the world into how we read the bible.

Words – even bible words - don't exist in a vacuum. Just like if a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, it DOESN'T make a noise because there is no ear present to process the sound waves, so too, words don't exist unless there is someone to read them. A closed book makes little impact on people.

Words are given life when they are spoken, heard, or read. Words are made flesh when people struggle to live by them, when communities of faith are shaped by them, when churches fight over their meaning, when they rip holes in our minds and blast their way through our souls.

It's been said that the Church is at the doorstep of a new Reformation. That the Church is changing from being the dominant religious force in society to having to prove its relevance.

But what I think is happening is that God, by the power of the Spirit, is asking churches to think deeply about how we use the bible, how we read it, what Jesus' message of life and salvation means for us today.

Too often, we Lutherans are still fighting the battles of the 16th century; exposing heresies, fighting the Roman Catholic Church as if it's still the boss of us, and worried that people are still fraught with fear over their salvation.

Our theology and liturgies still focus on the sin-forgiveness transaction that soothed anxious 16th century souls and launched the Protestant church.

But God is opening our eyes to the needs of today and tomorrow. God is calling us out of a medieval mindset to proclaim the good news that needs to be heard today – at this moment. Not 500 years ago.

We are being called into the 21st century to bind up 21st century wounds, to dry 21st century tears, to preach good news to the 21st century poor, to set 21st century captives free. That's our mission. That's our call.

Ecclesia semper reformanda est. The church is always reforming. That's what they said in the 16th century. And that's still true now.

God is always moving within and among us, changing, transforming, destroying and rebuilding. We have a God who brings dead things to life. A God who calls us from the future to live those future promises now – today. Where we are.

That is OUR Reformation.

And may this be so among us. Amen.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Pentecost 19B Romans Series

Romans 10: 5-17

What will the church of the future look like?

Will churches resemble what we have now? Will churches have pews and pastors, committees and councils, hymns and hierarchies?

Will leaders be trained in seminaries? Will there be a clergy/lay divide? Will we have buildings?

Probably “yes” to all these things. Some churches will hold on the current ways of being and doing church. Why fix what isn't broken? After all, it's worked for hundreds of years. If God didn't want the church to run this way why would God have established it like this? Right?

But also a big “NO.” I think God is doing something among mainline churches, those United, Presbyterian, United, and Anglican, churches that have some roots in the Reformation.

It's hard to say exactly what God is doing. But something is happening. There must be something that God is telling us as God has given us a front row seat to watch the decline of the institutional church. There must be a reason God put us here, at this place, in this time. There must be a reason God has allowed the body of Christ to atrophy, allowed us witness it's muscles and bones become weaker and weaker.

We're being asked to do more with less. More work with fewer volunteers. We see synod and national church programs get hacked to bits through lack of funds, yet still we're supposed to renew the church as resources are dwindling.

We watch our seminaries struggle financially, and say, “only if they taught more evangelism courses, or produced better preachers, or stuck to the basics, we'd produce leaders who would guide our churches back to where they once were.”

We watch helplessly as a world changes from church-going to church-indifferent; from where churches stood close to the centre of cultural power to being pushed to the periphery; from institutional respect to institutional obscurity.

And bad news stories only further hurt our institutional stability. A Roman Catholic Bishop is arrested for selling child porn. A family-values preacher cheats on his wife. A church leader gets caught with her hand in the financial cookie-jar.

It's almost as if, no matter how hard we try, we're emptying water buckets on the Lusitania.

So what is God telling us?

Today's Romans reading might be a clue.

First, some backstory. This is one of the sections where the changes of Paul's anti-semitism finds its legs.

Paul is complaining about his some of his fellow Jews in this passage. He's angry that they don't recognize Jesus as the Messiah. He spends a lot of time on this in Romans, probably because there was a sizable Jewish population in Rome and he wants to make sure that his Roman Christian friends have the right tools when evangelizing – or proclaiming Jesus as Messiah – to those Jewish non-Christians.

And then, and also today, our Jewish friends take real offense at what Paul was trying to do. And maybe rightly so. They knew the bible as well as he did. They prayed the same prayers and worshipped the same way Paul did. They yearned for the Messiah's arrival just as Paul did.

They didn't appreciate Paul's message. They thought Paul was delusional and arrogant. They thought he abandoned the historic faith. They thought he betrayed the message of the bible, and because of this, he betrayed his people.

They counter Paul's message about Jesus by asking, “If Jesus is the Messiah, then why didn't he do what the Messiah was supposed to do? Why didn't Jesus return Jerusalem to Israel? Why didn't Jesus defeat the enemies of Judaism? Why didn't Jesus usher in the era of peace and justice? Why doesn't the world look more redeemed?”

The classic answer to these questions is, and maybe you've heard this too: Jesus DID redeem the world. Just not in the ways people were expecting. God may have promised that the Messiah would bring peace on earth, put an end to world hunger, and restore Israel to the golden age of King David. But what God decided instead was to save people from their sins.

Again, that's the classic preacher's response to Jewish objections. But that doesn't satisfy me any more than it satisfies our Jewish friends. That's like saying, “God promised to do one thing and told us to prepare and pray for it, but instead, God did something else, and is angry that we don't recognize it.”

It's like telling your kids that you'll give them their favorite ice cream if they cleaned their room, but then you put hotdogs in front of them after their done, then punish them and call them silly when they ask where the ice cream is.

And I don't think Paul is unaware of these objections. He'd spent his whole life studying the scriptures. He went to synagogue every week to pray for the Messiah's coming. He hadn't learned since he was a little boy what the Messiah was supposed to do.

So, it's not as if he's uninformed of these concerns. He's just a little unsympathetic. Because he knows in his skin who Jesus is for him. And he can't figure out why anyone – especially his fellow Jews – wouldn't see in Jesus what he saw in Jesus.

His encounter with the Risen Christ so thoroughly transformed him that he wanted others to experience what he did.

His exploration of the scriptures so convinced him that Jesus was who Christians proclaimed him to be that he staked his life, his labour, and his life-eternal on that message.

We can argue with Paul about how he thinks Jewish people relate to God, but I wonder if we can learn from him as well. I wonder if he can shed some light on our future.

“If you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved,” Paul says.....”For, ‘Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’

Then he goes on...

“But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent?.....So faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ.”

Paul is saying that our job is simply to proclaim that Jesus was raised from the dead. But also, he says that we are to be “sent.” We are NOT to stand still. We are to be constantly on the move. Changing. Growing. Being sent means leaving some things behind. It means giving something up.

So, I wonder if God is asking us what we're going to give up in order to accomplish God's mission. Change means leaving somethings behind. Growth means fitting into new clothes.

God is changing us. God is changing the church and God is changing the world. And change is hard. We like things to be stable, we like to feel secure, we don't like it when life gets out of control.

But God isn't interested in stability or security. God never stands still. God is always moving, blowing fresh life into dry bones. Too often, we church-folks, enter the future walking backwards, our eyes fixed on what has been rather than looking forward to what God is doing.

Our job is not to complain about what we have lost, but to see what we're gaining. The Christian task is not to wipe our eyes at the setting sun, but to celebrate at the horizon of a new day.

We believe in a God who raised Jesus from the dead, a God who is making all things new, a God who hasn't given up on the church or the world, but calls us to proclaim that Jesus is alive and to live a resurrection life.

And a resurrection life has feet. It's always moving, it's always changing. The same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead also raises us from a comfortable church life and hurls us into the terrifying freedom that belongs to the children of God.

Resurrection life is hard. It makes demands. But it also brings life. It IS life. For everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved.

We won't know what the church of the future will look like until we get there. We don't know what the Spirit is doing. But paul does offer us the same challenge that he gave the church in Rome. That's why Paul challenged the Roman Christians to share Jesus story with others. That's why he asks us the same questions he asked the Romans church:

“But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent?.....So faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ.”

That is our call. This is our joy.

May this be so among us. Amen.

Monday, October 05, 2009

Pentecost 18B - Romans Series

"We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

We know that, do we? That's something we can ALL agree on, is it?

We know that all things work together for good or those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

There are days when I don't like this verse. Not because I don't think it's true. But the days I don't like this verse are the days when, it's misused, when I hear it as a cop-out, a way of protecting our beliefs against the mystery of suffering. When its used to push aside or even dismiss other peoples' pain from someone who's uncomfortable with strong feelings. When it's used as an easy answer to life's hardest question.

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

If only it were that easy. If only we could always trust that it were true. If only those words worked like a magic formula when pain arrives at our front door.

But there are days when it's hard to make sense of what Paul is saying.

When staring at the pill bottle, wondering why the medicine isn't working, and you can't shake feelings of despair and emptiness, your sister tells you,

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

What do you hear when she says that? Do you thank her for those comforting words. Or do you want to smack her for diminishing your pain?

When, after 20 years of marriage, you find yourselves across the desk from a lawyer, trying to figure out who gets the kids on what weekends, who gets the house, how the assets are going to be divided. You're starting over. Back to square one. You find yourself alone. You open your bible and you're told,

We know that all things work together for good or those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

How do you respond? Do those words soothe your sorrowing soul. Or do you get even angrier?

When you're standing at the foot of casket, and the person inside is far too young to be there. Your grief has no words. Your pain is too great for tears. Someone whispers in your ear,

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

Do you believe it? Is this good news? Or do those words slam the lid shut on your relationship with God?

It doesn't even have to be us who suffer to make this passage hard.

We may open the paper and see that an earthquake obliterated villages in Indonesia, killing 4000 people. Or we turn on the TV and we're told that a typhoon is bearing down on the Philippines for the second time in a month. Or we learn that, every 3.5 seconds, a child dies of hunger and malnutrition related diseases, while we work at losing weight.

A preacher then says, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

A liberating word? Or a way of letting us off the hook?

I don't know about you, but I find that it's easier to believe that God's Big Picture makes sense when suffering is simply an abstract thought. An idea to be pondered.

We're told that God has a master plan, a plan which we can't know, and therefore we simply just have to accept that suffering happens for a reason, that pain is part of that plan.

When life is good, God's plan seems clearer, more apparent. Easier to swallow.

But when that awful phone call comes, when the doctor gives you the terrible news, when you're visiting with the funeral home, it's harder to believe that something good comes of it. It's harder to believe that our pain is part of God's purpose.

It's harder to say that “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose” and believe that it's true.

It's in those times, we may say, If this is God's purpose then I don't want any part of it. I'd rather have my marriage re-assembled. I'd rather be healthy. I'd rather have my child back.”

If this is part of God's plan then God can leave me out it, I'd rather the weather not kill people. I'd rather that every child have a decent meal every day. I'd rather their be peace on earth. I'd rather that suffering be relegated to file-folder of history. That's what I'd like.

As many of you know, I'm turning 40 in a couple weeks (Really! I'm not kidding!) So I've been a little extra reflective these days, enjoying the sight of my naval perhaps a bit too much. ( These days it's pretty easy to find!). I'm anticipating the approaching mid-life crisis. So don't be surprised if, by Christmas, you see me riding a motorcycle or driving little red Corvette.

What I've realized is that, over the 40 years I've been on this planet, I've become less and less surprised by suffering. Less and less surprised by peoples' pain, by natural disasters, by peoples' self-centredness.

And I've learned that suffering is part of creation. It's what happens in a broken and fallen world. It shows us that world still isn't how God wants it to be.

But I've also learned that God hasn't finished with the world yet. That the kingdom – or the reign of God – isn't fully here.

But where did suffering come from? Did God make suffering?
I don't know. But what I do know is that God suffers. God suffers deeply. God suffers because God loves. Where there is no love, there is no suffering.

But God turns suffering around and creates something beautiful from it. Where pain, suffering, and death reside, God creates life.

We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now;” Paul says, “and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies.”

Labour pains! Paul is saying that our suffering is labour pains, giving birth to a new creation.

I find this way of talking about suffering REALLY helpful. Paul is saying, “Yes, your pain is real. I know there are days when you can barely get out of bed. I know there are days when your wounds of grief is so raw you can hardly speak. I know there are days when it looks like life is over, the world is ending, that sin and evil will triumph.

But these are just the beginning of something new that God is doing. A new day is coming when God’s New Creation finally comes in it’s fulness, the dead shall rise, and everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved.

And for Paul, this wasn't some mushy, pie-in-the-sky when you die sort of stuff. For Paul this was a promise he clung to with both hands. Paul wasn't some naive preacher telling people what they wanted to hear. Paul was preaching from the bowels of Hell. He knew what suffering was. He had been tortured, imprisoned, shipwrecked, beaten, insulted. He had watched some of his friends be executed. He had seen some of his ministries fail.

This is why I take this passage from Paul so seriously. Paul wasn't some thinker speculating on the problem of suffering from the basement of a church. Paul's letters have blood stains on them. They arrived to their readers wet with tears.

That's why Paul writes so passionately. That’s why he could talk about hope and people would believe him. Paul didn't have time for feel-good religion or easy answers to life's toughest questions. He suffered too much for such nonsense. The heat from Hell's flames singed his eyebrows.

That's why I can stand with Paul when he says about our pain,

What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else? Who will bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

As it is written,
‘For your sake we are being killed all day long; we are accounted as sheep to be slaughtered.’ 

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

May this be so among us. Amen!