Year B Transfiguration—Sermon—Armidale Uniting Church—090222
2 Kings 2:1-12; Mark 9: 2-9
Every year when Transfiguration comes around, my mind is drawn to 2 spectacular pieces of Christian heritage: the first is the speech entitled “I’ve been to the mountaintop” and delivered by Dr Martin Luther King Jr on 3 April 1968, the day before his assassination; and the second is that great old song, “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”—you know, the one—
"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; he is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; he has loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: his truth is marching on." (Together in Song 315; Julia Ward Howe 1819–1910 and others).
Somehow, those 2 things together have always spoken to me of the mountaintop experience depicted in the story of the transfiguration of Jesus. And that is especially the case when the story of Jesus’ transfiguration is coupled in the lectionary with the story of Elijah’s ascension into heaven. The speech and the song just seem to capture the glorious atmosphere that pervades these 2 stories.
And sometimes that worries me. It worries me that I seem to match the story of Jesus’ transfiguration and the story of Elijah’s ascension with such triumphalistic imagery, although of course that imagery is there in the stories themselves.
At his ascension, Elijah is envisaged as being accompanied by chariots and horses of fire. What an image of the enfolding of Elijah into the Lord of Hosts, God depicted as leader of mighty armies! What an image of Jesus having a tête-a-tête with the greats of his faith: Moses and Elijah! Surely, there are no more glorious and noble images of the greatness of these 2 figures (Elijah and Jesus) and of the God whom they proclaim than these.
And what a great, rousing song the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” is! And doesn’t it tap into that image of the God of Hosts leading an army to glorious victory? And what a speech delivered by Martin Luther King Jr: “Well, I don’t know what will happen now… But it really doesn’t matter with me now, because I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I don’t mind.”
But I wonder, I wonder about that triumphalistic imagery… I wonder.
Triumphalist Christianity has not served the world well. It has driven out and over colonialised people in the name of God. It has pursued military conflicts for profit and greed, rather than justice and peace. It has promised the earth to people who barely scratch out a daily living. And we have not always been good as Christian people at detecting our own tendencies towards triumphalism.
And yet, if triumphalism is all we see and hear and experience in these stories, in the speech, in the song, then perhaps we are baring our own souls far more than we are exposing the assumptions behind the texts. Perhaps we are displaying our own comfortable Christianity over against Christian faith wrought in difficult times during struggles over difficult issues.
For these texts in their contexts are not texts of triumph, but of hope. They are texts of inexhaustible, sometimes apparently unwarranted, unquenchable hope maintained in the face of very difficult times and almost impossible circumstances. And that means we need to be careful with them.
"'The Battle Hymn of the Republic' is an American abolitionist song, written by Julia Ward Howe in November 1861 and first published in The Atlantic Monthly on 1 February 1862, that became popular during the American Civil War." (Wikipedia) It inspired people who were concerned with justice and freedom for African American slaves to fight (and even to die) for that goal. Martin Luther King Jr’s speech was written at the end of a lifetime of struggle for the rights of the descendants of those slaves. Indeed the speech recounts something of the trials which civil rights activists endured. Elisha is just about to be handed the mantle of one of Israel’s greatest prophets, and don’t we know what people do to prophets? No wonder he wanted a double portion of Elijah’s spirit. The road ahead wasn’t going to be an easy one. And Jesus, well need I say anything more. If the transfiguration is a depiction of the triumphal glory in which Jesus will be covered, then the journey to the cross seems an odd way to travel a triumphalist road. The contexts of these texts bear much more the mark of “blood, sweat and tears” than of triumphalistic glory. And if this so, then these texts are not about triumphalistic glory at all, but about trying to show where real glory is to be found. And in doing that, they remind us that all that glitters is not gold, and sometimes we overlook the gold because it seems much less exciting than the dross.
So, where is the real glory in these texts?
In the “Battle Hymn of the Republic”, it is in a glimpse of a world where Christ’s justice reigns: a world for which real people did literally fight and die. One of the later verses, despite it’s unreal depiction of Jesus’ birth, upholds that vision: "In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, with a glory in his bosom which transfigures you and me: as he died to make men [people] holy, let us die to make men [people] free, while God is marching on." The second last line is later changed to the one we sing, “Let us live to make men [people] free”. The glory was in the vision and in the work for it, and that work wasn’t easy nor did it come with great accolades at the time.
In Martin Luther King Jr’s speech, it is in the struggles of the 1960s civil rights movement: of sit-ins and freedom rides; of water cannons and imprisonment; of pain-staking and enduring civil disobedience; of children being jeered at as they entered de-segregated schools; of beatings and assaults, murders and assassinations. The glory was in the dream and in the work for it, and that work wasn’t easy nor did it come with great accolades at the time.
Elisha, well Elisha is just at the beginning of his work for God and it’s not going to be easy either. It’s not easy to speak the truth to people of power. It’s not easy to proclaim God’s word when few will listen. Perhaps, it is that Elisha needed such a vision in order to trust God for that journey. The glory is in the promise and in the work for it, and you’d better be sure that that work wasn’t easy nor did it come with great accolades at the time.
And Jesus, well Jesus also has a long journey ahead. This is not the moment of triumph. That moment is a long way off and it isn’t found as the kind of triumph we might expect—exaltation and applause. It is found in humiliation and suffering and death. The glory is in the proclamation of God’s new world and in the work for it, and that work wasn’t easy nor did it come with great accolades at the time.
Yesterday, in the Workshop on Grace presented by the Moderator, Revd Niall Reid, we were encouraged to envisage what living out of the graciousness of God might mean for us. My conversation partner and I were reminded of the many times that we might overlook grace-filled moments because they are found in humility and persistence rather than in triumph and show. It is easy to see triumphal achievements, and much harder to catch sight of the acts of mercy and love that sustain individuals, families and communities.
If it is the triumph and the show on which we focus, neglecting to understand the vision within them and the work required by that vision, then we will miss the glimpses of glory which surround us in the grace-filled moments of everyday encounters with the promises of God made present in our midst in struggle and hope.
If it is the triumph and the show on which we focus, neglecting to notice grace and love, mercy and hope, then we will miss the glimpses of glory that embody the presence of God in our midst.
If it is the triumph and the show on which we focus, neglecting to hear the call to costly discipleship, then we will miss the glimpses of glory that can only be found after long, pain-staking, arduous climbs to the tops of mountains.
The Basis of Union (Paras 3 & 4 Excerpts) puts it this way: "God in Christ has given to all people in the Church the Holy Spirit as a pledge and foretaste of that coming reconciliation and renewal which is the end in view for the whole creation. The Church’s call is to serve that end: to be a fellowship of reconciliation, a body within which the diverse gifts of its members are used for the building up of the whole, an instrument through which Christ may work and bear witness to himself. The Church lives between the time of Christ’s death and resurrection and the final consummation of all things which Christ will bring; the Church is a pilgrim people, always on the way towards a promised goal; here the Church does not have a continuing city but seeks one to come…
"The Uniting Church acknowledges that the Church is able to live and endure through the changes of history only because its Lord comes, addresses, and deals with people in and through the news of his completed work. Christ who is present when he is preached among people is the Word of the God who acquits the guilty, who gives life to the dead and who brings into being what otherwise could not exist. Through human witness in word and action, and in the power of the Holy Spirit, Christ reaches out to command people’s attention and awaken faith; he calls people into the fellowship of his sufferings, to be the disciples of a crucified Lord…"
Glory be to you,
Source of all Being, Eternal Word and Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning, is now and shall be forever. Amen.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
A Call to Worship for Transfiguration (Year B)
God speaks: the earth is summoned.
God comes: fire and tempest surround.
God calls: “Gather my faithful ones!”
Tested in storm and flame,
we assemble to declare God’s glory.
(cf Psalm 50:1-6)
God comes: fire and tempest surround.
God calls: “Gather my faithful ones!”
Tested in storm and flame,
we assemble to declare God’s glory.
(cf Psalm 50:1-6)
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Celebrate Life in Water
Year B Ordinary Sunday 6-Sermon-Armidale Uniting Church-090215
2 Kings 5:1-14; Mark 1:40-45
Well, the rain has been a relief after the heat and the humidity of the last week or so. It’s washed the world clean and re-invigorated the plant life. The Japanese maple I was given at my induction was beginning to look a little sad on its tap water diet. Somehow the rain has brought it back to life. Rain seems to have that special effect. It links us into the earthy rhythms of life and death, growth and decay.
Of course, it does that too, when it comes in terrifying storms or results in devastating floods. Rain washes clean, cleans things out, covers things over, wipes things away, soaks the earth and creates the right environment for new growth and re-invigoration.
It’s such an ordinary phenomenon with so much power. It’s hard to believe it, even in the face of our own experience. Yet we do believe it. When the heat of the sun has sapped the moisture from our gardens and crops, we yearn for rain—life-giving rain. When we watch the power of the bushfires, we pray for rain—a heavy deluge that will dowse the flames. When we face dry creek-beds and empty dams, we crave rain—steady, rhythmic rain in its right season. We know the power of rain—of this particular form of water—for life; and we expect its effect.
According to the second book of Kings, Naaman, the commander of the army of the king of Aram, wasn’t quite so certain about the water to which he was sent by the prophet Elisha. The river Jordan wasn’t like the rivers of his homeland. The direction came from a foreign prophet, albeit of the Semitic family, who represented an entirely different God from those of Aram. And it hardly seemed possible that such a simple act could cure such a socially debilitating disease (whatever it was, for we do not know exactly what the disease being referred to as leprosy was).
Now there are probably a few things going on in this story. Firstly, like the story of Jesus curing the man with leprosy in the Markan reading for today, we have a story of a healing. Such accounts of healing establish the authority of the prophet who accomplishes the healing; and the God in whose name the healing takes place.
Secondly, we have an account of a washing that results not only in healing but in a new orientation, a new allegiance, a significant life change. In the very next verse after the end of the reading from the lectionary for today, Naaman says, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.” In this washing, Naaman has been converted and he is ready to honour Israel’s God and God’s prophet, Elisha. He has been convinced by the effectiveness of his washing in the waters of the Jordan.
Ritual washing as effective sign of cleansing, healing and a change of orientation is a significant theme in the scriptures and in Jewish and Christian theology. Naaman is healed through washing in the Jordan. John baptises for the forgiveness of sins. Jesus undergoes baptism at the commencement of his intentional ministry. And today we have baptised Tabitha Jane Hignett. What is this washing about?
Baptism is central to our identity as Christian people. In Baptism, we are enfolded into the life of the Triune God and made members of the body of Christ, the church.
The word “Baptism” comes from the Greek word baptizo which means “to dip” into water or liquid. A related word form, bapto, is used for dipping something into dye, and for drawing water. Baptizo may also mean “to cause to perish by drowning”. The imagery is vivid. It is about being immersed, about changing colour, about life and death.
Going under water and coming up, or having water poured over us, signifies that we are incorporated into the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. From that time forward, our identity in Christ is the primary one. We are part of the one, holy, catholic [universal] and apostolic church: the body of Christ, the communion of the Holy Spirit, the people of the God.
Christian Educator, Debra Dean Murphy talks about it this way: "Baptism… confers an identity at odds with the ways we are named and claimed by family, nation, and ideology. Baptism is the constitution of a new people whose prior loyalties and allegiances are exposed, named, and radically reconfigured." (Teaching That Transforms: Worship as the Heart of Christian Education, Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2004.)
Baptism is not about welcoming someone into a human family, but into the family of God. Baptism is not about naming someone so that we all know what to call him or her, but about naming someone as a child in God. Baptism is not about the recognition of a new life given through birth, but a new birth into the life of Jesus Christ. And with that new birth comes a new vocation: the vocation of the Christian life.
Over the centuries of Christian tradition, people have talked about the vocation of the Christian life in different ways. Sometimes, they listed 4 elements; sometimes 7. The Uniting Church’s Basis of Union describes the Christian life in just 3: worship, witness and service.
In Christ, we are oriented towards God. Because of Christ, that orientation calls us to honour God through deep conversation or worship, just as Naaman was impelled to attempt to make an offering to God’s prophet, Elisha. That deep conversation or worship includes praise as a very important element, but not as the only element. We are also drawn into confession and thanksgiving, lament, intercession and petition. Honouring God means being in real dialogue with God.
In response to God’s graciousness to us in Christ, we are also called to tell the story of God just as the one healed from leprosy proclaimed Jesus’ action to all and sundry. We proclaim God’s story in our worship as a public expression of the deep relationship that we have with God through Christ in the power of the Spirit. We also tell God’s story when we care for others; when we act graciously in our daily lives; and when we share our faith story with others.
God’s graciousness to us also calls forth from us service—to God and to God’s creation—just as Elisha and Jesus served God. We serve God in our worship as we bring the world before God and witness to the good news we have in Jesus Christ. We serve God when we share what we have with others; when we go out of our way to do something for someone, for our community, for the environment; and when we tell someone else about God’s grace.
And in all this, just as Elisha proclaimed the God of Israel in the healing of Naaman, and Jesus proclaimed the coming of God’s realm in the healing of the one with leprosy, we proclaim God’s reign in our midst and in the time to come. The Basis of Union puts it like this: "The Uniting Church acknowledges that Christ incorporates people into his body by Baptism. In this way Christ enables them to participate in his own baptism, which was accomplished once on behalf of all in his death and burial, and which was made available to all when, risen and ascended, he poured out the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Baptism into Christ’s body initiates people into Christ’s life and mission in the world, so that they are united in one fellowship of love, service, suffering and joy, in one family of the Father of all in heaven and earth, and in the power of the one Spirit." (Para. 7)
What an amazing miracle we have witnessed and participated in today—God’s Word proclaimed and enacted; the beginning of the Christian Life for Tabitha; and an effective sign of the God made known to us in Jesus.
Glory be to you, Source of all Being, Eternal Word and Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning, is now and shall be forever. Amen.
2 Kings 5:1-14; Mark 1:40-45
Well, the rain has been a relief after the heat and the humidity of the last week or so. It’s washed the world clean and re-invigorated the plant life. The Japanese maple I was given at my induction was beginning to look a little sad on its tap water diet. Somehow the rain has brought it back to life. Rain seems to have that special effect. It links us into the earthy rhythms of life and death, growth and decay.
Of course, it does that too, when it comes in terrifying storms or results in devastating floods. Rain washes clean, cleans things out, covers things over, wipes things away, soaks the earth and creates the right environment for new growth and re-invigoration.
It’s such an ordinary phenomenon with so much power. It’s hard to believe it, even in the face of our own experience. Yet we do believe it. When the heat of the sun has sapped the moisture from our gardens and crops, we yearn for rain—life-giving rain. When we watch the power of the bushfires, we pray for rain—a heavy deluge that will dowse the flames. When we face dry creek-beds and empty dams, we crave rain—steady, rhythmic rain in its right season. We know the power of rain—of this particular form of water—for life; and we expect its effect.
According to the second book of Kings, Naaman, the commander of the army of the king of Aram, wasn’t quite so certain about the water to which he was sent by the prophet Elisha. The river Jordan wasn’t like the rivers of his homeland. The direction came from a foreign prophet, albeit of the Semitic family, who represented an entirely different God from those of Aram. And it hardly seemed possible that such a simple act could cure such a socially debilitating disease (whatever it was, for we do not know exactly what the disease being referred to as leprosy was).
Now there are probably a few things going on in this story. Firstly, like the story of Jesus curing the man with leprosy in the Markan reading for today, we have a story of a healing. Such accounts of healing establish the authority of the prophet who accomplishes the healing; and the God in whose name the healing takes place.
Secondly, we have an account of a washing that results not only in healing but in a new orientation, a new allegiance, a significant life change. In the very next verse after the end of the reading from the lectionary for today, Naaman says, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.” In this washing, Naaman has been converted and he is ready to honour Israel’s God and God’s prophet, Elisha. He has been convinced by the effectiveness of his washing in the waters of the Jordan.
Ritual washing as effective sign of cleansing, healing and a change of orientation is a significant theme in the scriptures and in Jewish and Christian theology. Naaman is healed through washing in the Jordan. John baptises for the forgiveness of sins. Jesus undergoes baptism at the commencement of his intentional ministry. And today we have baptised Tabitha Jane Hignett. What is this washing about?
Baptism is central to our identity as Christian people. In Baptism, we are enfolded into the life of the Triune God and made members of the body of Christ, the church.
The word “Baptism” comes from the Greek word baptizo which means “to dip” into water or liquid. A related word form, bapto, is used for dipping something into dye, and for drawing water. Baptizo may also mean “to cause to perish by drowning”. The imagery is vivid. It is about being immersed, about changing colour, about life and death.
Going under water and coming up, or having water poured over us, signifies that we are incorporated into the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. From that time forward, our identity in Christ is the primary one. We are part of the one, holy, catholic [universal] and apostolic church: the body of Christ, the communion of the Holy Spirit, the people of the God.
Christian Educator, Debra Dean Murphy talks about it this way: "Baptism… confers an identity at odds with the ways we are named and claimed by family, nation, and ideology. Baptism is the constitution of a new people whose prior loyalties and allegiances are exposed, named, and radically reconfigured." (Teaching That Transforms: Worship as the Heart of Christian Education, Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2004.)
Baptism is not about welcoming someone into a human family, but into the family of God. Baptism is not about naming someone so that we all know what to call him or her, but about naming someone as a child in God. Baptism is not about the recognition of a new life given through birth, but a new birth into the life of Jesus Christ. And with that new birth comes a new vocation: the vocation of the Christian life.
Over the centuries of Christian tradition, people have talked about the vocation of the Christian life in different ways. Sometimes, they listed 4 elements; sometimes 7. The Uniting Church’s Basis of Union describes the Christian life in just 3: worship, witness and service.
In Christ, we are oriented towards God. Because of Christ, that orientation calls us to honour God through deep conversation or worship, just as Naaman was impelled to attempt to make an offering to God’s prophet, Elisha. That deep conversation or worship includes praise as a very important element, but not as the only element. We are also drawn into confession and thanksgiving, lament, intercession and petition. Honouring God means being in real dialogue with God.
In response to God’s graciousness to us in Christ, we are also called to tell the story of God just as the one healed from leprosy proclaimed Jesus’ action to all and sundry. We proclaim God’s story in our worship as a public expression of the deep relationship that we have with God through Christ in the power of the Spirit. We also tell God’s story when we care for others; when we act graciously in our daily lives; and when we share our faith story with others.
God’s graciousness to us also calls forth from us service—to God and to God’s creation—just as Elisha and Jesus served God. We serve God in our worship as we bring the world before God and witness to the good news we have in Jesus Christ. We serve God when we share what we have with others; when we go out of our way to do something for someone, for our community, for the environment; and when we tell someone else about God’s grace.
And in all this, just as Elisha proclaimed the God of Israel in the healing of Naaman, and Jesus proclaimed the coming of God’s realm in the healing of the one with leprosy, we proclaim God’s reign in our midst and in the time to come. The Basis of Union puts it like this: "The Uniting Church acknowledges that Christ incorporates people into his body by Baptism. In this way Christ enables them to participate in his own baptism, which was accomplished once on behalf of all in his death and burial, and which was made available to all when, risen and ascended, he poured out the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Baptism into Christ’s body initiates people into Christ’s life and mission in the world, so that they are united in one fellowship of love, service, suffering and joy, in one family of the Father of all in heaven and earth, and in the power of the one Spirit." (Para. 7)
What an amazing miracle we have witnessed and participated in today—God’s Word proclaimed and enacted; the beginning of the Christian Life for Tabitha; and an effective sign of the God made known to us in Jesus.
Glory be to you, Source of all Being, Eternal Word and Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning, is now and shall be forever. Amen.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
O God, Why?
In the face of the devastation of the bushfires in Victoria and of the floods in north Queensland, we are confronted by the frailness of our humanity and the fragility of God’s creation. We are not the first people to feel this way. The scriptures are full of people crying out to God and asking, “Why?” This is an important prayer tradition in our Judaeo-Christian heritage.
Many psalms address God in this manner: "1Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!" (Psalm 130 NRSV) And we hear Jesus recite one of those psalms on the cross: "45 From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. 46And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’" (Matthew 27 NRSV; see also Psalm 22)
God listens to our cries. God, indeed, wants us to be in open conversation with God. This prayer tradition offers the assurance that when we pour out our innermost thoughts to God, God hears and we find renewed comfort.
Kathleen Billman and Daniel Migliore (Rachel’s Cry: Prayer of Lament and Rebirth of Hope, 1999, Cleveland, Ohio: United Church) point to the ancient structure of such prayers of lament:
1. Address to God
2. Complaint
3. Confession of Trust
4. Petition
5. Words of Assurance
6. Vow to Praise
When practising this prayer form, it is very important that we don’t move on too quickly from (2) complaint. When our complaints are all poured out, the prayer should move naturally to a recognition of the God with whom we have been speaking (and sometimes even shouting). Trust God to hear your deepest thoughts and concerns, and to understand.
Many psalms address God in this manner: "1Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!" (Psalm 130 NRSV) And we hear Jesus recite one of those psalms on the cross: "45 From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. 46And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’" (Matthew 27 NRSV; see also Psalm 22)
God listens to our cries. God, indeed, wants us to be in open conversation with God. This prayer tradition offers the assurance that when we pour out our innermost thoughts to God, God hears and we find renewed comfort.
Kathleen Billman and Daniel Migliore (Rachel’s Cry: Prayer of Lament and Rebirth of Hope, 1999, Cleveland, Ohio: United Church) point to the ancient structure of such prayers of lament:
1. Address to God
2. Complaint
3. Confession of Trust
4. Petition
5. Words of Assurance
6. Vow to Praise
When practising this prayer form, it is very important that we don’t move on too quickly from (2) complaint. When our complaints are all poured out, the prayer should move naturally to a recognition of the God with whom we have been speaking (and sometimes even shouting). Trust God to hear your deepest thoughts and concerns, and to understand.
Monday, February 9, 2009
For the Sake of the Gospel
Year B Ordinary Sunday 5—Sermon—Armidale Uniting Church—090208
1 Corinthians 9:16-23
Since it’s “The Peter Allen Festival” this weekend in Armidale, I’ve been pondering some of Peter’s lyrics.
Time is a traveller
Tenterfield Saddler, turn your head
Ride again Jackaroo
Think I see Kangaroo up ahead
Now, granted the rhyming scheme in “Tenterfield Saddler” is somewhat forced and a bit kitsch, but I can’t help misting over whenever I hear it. The story is just so poignant: it brings to mind my forebears who had nothing to do with Tenterfield or saddlery; and it makes me wonder what I would seem like to them just as the song witnesses the changes in the generations following the saddler. The saddler’s son “went off and got married and had a war baby” and, the song implies, shot himself; while the saddler’s grandson “has been all around the world and lives no special place”. It makes me wonder… It seems to ask me who I am and where I stand in the heritage that has been given to me. And that is also what the epistle reading for today does, although not so much in relation to my family (although there’s a strong Christian heritage there), but in relation to the community of Christ across the centuries and the globe, when Paul says, “I do it all for the sake of the gospel.”
“I do it all for the sake of the gospel.”
“I do it all for the sake of the gospel.”
…for the sake of the gospel.
It’s just such a little phrase… such a tiny, little phrase… and it holds so much. And it is misused so badly … for the sake of the gospel?
The apostle Paul is on the defensive once again or perhaps it’s the offensive. He’s trying to explain to those poor, confused Corinthians why some things are important to observe and others aren’t: why sometimes he depends for his basic needs on the goodwill of the people with whom he is sharing the gospel; and why sometimes he works as a tentmaker to earn his living alongside his primary call to proclaim God’s message, and that that variation is okay. He’s defending his authority as an apostle and he’s defining the parameters within which he, as an apostle, may work. He’s probably also offending a few people while he’s at it; but he’s actually trying to show how inoffensive his behaviour is in the light of the offence of the gospel.
“I do what I need to do in order to proclaim the gospel,” argues Paul.
Now if your experience is like mine, you will have heard many people use the same kind of line to justify doing just about anything and everything in the name of God and of God’s church: “God called me to do it!” “I just believe that this is what we need to be doing.” “I’ve had a word from the Lord...” And sometimes what is being justified has nothing to do with the good news of God’s miraculous justification of our very existence in Christ. And the claims leave me as sceptical as many Australians used to feel about Peter Allen’s “I still call Australia home.” So, is this what Paul is doing here?
If we take this one passage out of its context and out of the context of Paul’s apostolic ministry, we might be tempted to hear the text in that way. We may hear Paul saying: “I do what I like for the sake of the gospel, and I will keep on doing it whether you like it or not”, but… there is that little phrase, “for the sake of the gospel”. And, for Paul, that really means something. It is not just a justification for whatever it is that he individually wants to do. It is the good news! And it must be the good news! It’s not just about claiming a heritage, be it Australia or saddlery or Christianity; it’s about living it.
The sharing of the gospel, for Paul, is not an optional extra. It is not an extracurricular activity. You don’t get extra credit or kudos for doing it. It is not even a right that you have by virtue of a privileged place in God; and it’s certainly not a right that you can earn. No, for Paul, proclaiming the gospel is an obligation, a duty, a constraint, a solemn trust, a responsibility… Like where you come from, you can’t just ignore it, or give it away.
Now those words about obligation and responsibility are not ones which we hear emphasised in our world. And when they are even used, there is generally a sense that with obligation and responsibility come burdensome and onerous work. So, I don’t know about you, but Paul hasn’t quite got me convinced yet! But… there is that pesky, little phrase… “for the sake of the gospel”.
And it is this phrase that is not only at the heart of Paul’s case for his behaviour, but it is also at the heart of what he is on about.
The good news of the new life given to us in and through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus is good news! It’s the sort of news that demands response in the sense that it evokes response. God loves us so much that at the point we are really able to accept that love as directed towards us, we discover that we cannot but share that good news with others. It outflows and overflows from our very being, made new in Christ, by the power of the Spirit. It infiltrates our thoughts and our actions. It fills our very being as we are oriented in grateful thanks towards the God who has given this wondrous and precious gift, this utter blessing. This good news is good news! It is our inheritance.
This good news is so good that we don’t need to cajole or manipulate or threaten or seduce people in order to share it effectively. In fact, if we were to do so, it would not be the good news that we would be sharing.
This good news must be shared as good news. This good news can’t be shared by cajoling or manipulating or threatening or seducing because the medium, the means of communication, would not then be consistent with the message; the proof of the pudding would not be in the eating; and the wrapping would not befit the gift. You can take the boy out of Oz, but you can’t take the Oz out of the boy.
It’s ironic really: Paul is arguing his case for not being consistent in the way that he operates in different communities, because he is claiming that this inconsistency allows the consistent proclamation of the gospel message: “For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law) so that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some.” (vs 19-22).
In order to proclaim the same message to different groups, Paul is saying that he must do different things. For those who find God’s message in Paul being able to accept their hospitality, Paul accepts their hospitality. For those who find God’s message in Paul’s free offering of the message without a plea for support, Paul pays his own way. For those who trust God’s message in the Jewish Law, Paul will make use of the Law; and for those who receive God’s message outside of the Law, Paul will operate outside the Law. But this is certainly not anything goes, because the obligation, the responsibility is ultimately to the gospel, the good news of new life in Christ and therein lies the boundary, the parameters, the restrictions. If what we do supposedly to share the gospel is not consistent with the gospel then it is not proclamation of God’s good news; but if it is good news we are sharing, then the way in which we share it will be good news. What we have inherited, we are enfolded in, and we will proclaim.
So, in Paul’s defence of himself, we are invited to really listen to and really hear the good news of Jesus Christ to us. We are invited to really discover where our home and heritage lie. We are reminded again that God loves the world so much that, in order to rebuild relationship with us, God entered the world to experience what it means to be in the world; God, the Creator, acts in utter solidarity with the Creation, by becoming a part of it and enduring its very depths; God gives up God’s very self in order to give us new life in God.
When we really hear that news as the good news that it is; and when we really accept that good news for ourselves, then we will discover the freedom that comes with knowing our place, our home and our heritage in God. And it is this good news that will govern how we share it with others as we are impelled to embody what we have accepted for ourselves as the gospel—God loves you; God calls you; God keeps you; and God charges you … to share the good news!
Glory be to you Source of all Being,
Eternal Word and Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning,
is now and shall be forever. Amen.
1 Corinthians 9:16-23
Since it’s “The Peter Allen Festival” this weekend in Armidale, I’ve been pondering some of Peter’s lyrics.
Time is a traveller
Tenterfield Saddler, turn your head
Ride again Jackaroo
Think I see Kangaroo up ahead
Now, granted the rhyming scheme in “Tenterfield Saddler” is somewhat forced and a bit kitsch, but I can’t help misting over whenever I hear it. The story is just so poignant: it brings to mind my forebears who had nothing to do with Tenterfield or saddlery; and it makes me wonder what I would seem like to them just as the song witnesses the changes in the generations following the saddler. The saddler’s son “went off and got married and had a war baby” and, the song implies, shot himself; while the saddler’s grandson “has been all around the world and lives no special place”. It makes me wonder… It seems to ask me who I am and where I stand in the heritage that has been given to me. And that is also what the epistle reading for today does, although not so much in relation to my family (although there’s a strong Christian heritage there), but in relation to the community of Christ across the centuries and the globe, when Paul says, “I do it all for the sake of the gospel.”
“I do it all for the sake of the gospel.”
“I do it all for the sake of the gospel.”
…for the sake of the gospel.
It’s just such a little phrase… such a tiny, little phrase… and it holds so much. And it is misused so badly … for the sake of the gospel?
The apostle Paul is on the defensive once again or perhaps it’s the offensive. He’s trying to explain to those poor, confused Corinthians why some things are important to observe and others aren’t: why sometimes he depends for his basic needs on the goodwill of the people with whom he is sharing the gospel; and why sometimes he works as a tentmaker to earn his living alongside his primary call to proclaim God’s message, and that that variation is okay. He’s defending his authority as an apostle and he’s defining the parameters within which he, as an apostle, may work. He’s probably also offending a few people while he’s at it; but he’s actually trying to show how inoffensive his behaviour is in the light of the offence of the gospel.
“I do what I need to do in order to proclaim the gospel,” argues Paul.
Now if your experience is like mine, you will have heard many people use the same kind of line to justify doing just about anything and everything in the name of God and of God’s church: “God called me to do it!” “I just believe that this is what we need to be doing.” “I’ve had a word from the Lord...” And sometimes what is being justified has nothing to do with the good news of God’s miraculous justification of our very existence in Christ. And the claims leave me as sceptical as many Australians used to feel about Peter Allen’s “I still call Australia home.” So, is this what Paul is doing here?
If we take this one passage out of its context and out of the context of Paul’s apostolic ministry, we might be tempted to hear the text in that way. We may hear Paul saying: “I do what I like for the sake of the gospel, and I will keep on doing it whether you like it or not”, but… there is that little phrase, “for the sake of the gospel”. And, for Paul, that really means something. It is not just a justification for whatever it is that he individually wants to do. It is the good news! And it must be the good news! It’s not just about claiming a heritage, be it Australia or saddlery or Christianity; it’s about living it.
The sharing of the gospel, for Paul, is not an optional extra. It is not an extracurricular activity. You don’t get extra credit or kudos for doing it. It is not even a right that you have by virtue of a privileged place in God; and it’s certainly not a right that you can earn. No, for Paul, proclaiming the gospel is an obligation, a duty, a constraint, a solemn trust, a responsibility… Like where you come from, you can’t just ignore it, or give it away.
Now those words about obligation and responsibility are not ones which we hear emphasised in our world. And when they are even used, there is generally a sense that with obligation and responsibility come burdensome and onerous work. So, I don’t know about you, but Paul hasn’t quite got me convinced yet! But… there is that pesky, little phrase… “for the sake of the gospel”.
And it is this phrase that is not only at the heart of Paul’s case for his behaviour, but it is also at the heart of what he is on about.
The good news of the new life given to us in and through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus is good news! It’s the sort of news that demands response in the sense that it evokes response. God loves us so much that at the point we are really able to accept that love as directed towards us, we discover that we cannot but share that good news with others. It outflows and overflows from our very being, made new in Christ, by the power of the Spirit. It infiltrates our thoughts and our actions. It fills our very being as we are oriented in grateful thanks towards the God who has given this wondrous and precious gift, this utter blessing. This good news is good news! It is our inheritance.
This good news is so good that we don’t need to cajole or manipulate or threaten or seduce people in order to share it effectively. In fact, if we were to do so, it would not be the good news that we would be sharing.
This good news must be shared as good news. This good news can’t be shared by cajoling or manipulating or threatening or seducing because the medium, the means of communication, would not then be consistent with the message; the proof of the pudding would not be in the eating; and the wrapping would not befit the gift. You can take the boy out of Oz, but you can’t take the Oz out of the boy.
It’s ironic really: Paul is arguing his case for not being consistent in the way that he operates in different communities, because he is claiming that this inconsistency allows the consistent proclamation of the gospel message: “For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law) so that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some.” (vs 19-22).
In order to proclaim the same message to different groups, Paul is saying that he must do different things. For those who find God’s message in Paul being able to accept their hospitality, Paul accepts their hospitality. For those who find God’s message in Paul’s free offering of the message without a plea for support, Paul pays his own way. For those who trust God’s message in the Jewish Law, Paul will make use of the Law; and for those who receive God’s message outside of the Law, Paul will operate outside the Law. But this is certainly not anything goes, because the obligation, the responsibility is ultimately to the gospel, the good news of new life in Christ and therein lies the boundary, the parameters, the restrictions. If what we do supposedly to share the gospel is not consistent with the gospel then it is not proclamation of God’s good news; but if it is good news we are sharing, then the way in which we share it will be good news. What we have inherited, we are enfolded in, and we will proclaim.
So, in Paul’s defence of himself, we are invited to really listen to and really hear the good news of Jesus Christ to us. We are invited to really discover where our home and heritage lie. We are reminded again that God loves the world so much that, in order to rebuild relationship with us, God entered the world to experience what it means to be in the world; God, the Creator, acts in utter solidarity with the Creation, by becoming a part of it and enduring its very depths; God gives up God’s very self in order to give us new life in God.
When we really hear that news as the good news that it is; and when we really accept that good news for ourselves, then we will discover the freedom that comes with knowing our place, our home and our heritage in God. And it is this good news that will govern how we share it with others as we are impelled to embody what we have accepted for ourselves as the gospel—God loves you; God calls you; God keeps you; and God charges you … to share the good news!
Glory be to you Source of all Being,
Eternal Word and Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning,
is now and shall be forever. Amen.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Response After Induction--Armidale Uniting Church, 31 January 2009
I greet you in the name of our Saviour Jesus Christ who was and is and is to come: grace, peace and hope in all things as we join together to worship, witness to and serve our servant Lord.
The process of discernment that has brought us together has truly encompassed a wide and lengthy consultation within that part of the community of Christ which is the Uniting Church’s Synod of NSW & ACT, the New England North West Presbytery and the Armidale Congregation. Although at times the journey has been wearing, the outcome has indeed come from the discernment of the call of God in community, the appropriate manner for the church to seek God’s guidance. We can now rejoice together in the affirmation of the church (Congregation, Presbytery and Synod) that our immediate future extends together. We can also give thanks that that same discernment process has allowed Will Pearson to accept a call to the Broken Hill Congregation and the Presbytery of Macquarie Darling. He will be fulfilling a vital ministry in that place.
I give thanks to God for the work of those who have been involved in the discernment process for this placement: the Joint Nominating Committee, the Presbytery Pastoral Relations Committee, the Synod Placements Committee and you, the Congregation. It will now take some time for us to get to know one another better and to learn how our strengths and weaknesses may all work together in the purposes of God. That journey is sure to be an exciting, frustrating, daunting, challenging, fulfilling one. On the way, we are called to constantly seek God’s will for our lives in God’s service.
In the busyness of our contemporary world, I am constantly reminded by the resources of our faith that God’s time is not our time, nor are God’s ways our ways. It is as important for us to rest in God as it is to work for God. Resting in God keeps us in touch with God’s mission for the world in Christ and the way in which that mission continues to unfold through the power of the Holy Spirit. It is a wonderful, awe-ful thing that we are incorporated into that mission as the body of Christ, the people of God, the communion of the Spirit. Celebrating this miracle of grace is the first call on our lives and the one that will set us free to be the people whom we are called to be in Christ.
I would like to acknowledge those who have travelled some distance to be here today—particularly those from Sydney and Toowoomba; and also those many others who have sent their greetings but have been unable to be here. Many of those who are absent of been an important part of the discernment process in affirming my move into congregational ministry as an appropriate one at this time.
I also acknowledge the presence of a strong contingent from the Uniting Aboriginal and Islander Christian Congress. It is significant that, in this placement, I serve on Kamilaroi land as my step-daughter and step-grand-daughter share this heritage. I look forward to working with Congress in Christ’s ministry on this land.
So, as you have just invoked a blessing upon me, may I invoke one on you:
The God of the Ages give you peace;
Christ Jesus, Alpha and Omega, guide your path;
and the Holy Spirit who brings past and future
together in Christ
in this present moment
grant that you may rest in God’s time
and God’s purposes
for the reconciliation of the whole Creation. Amen.
The process of discernment that has brought us together has truly encompassed a wide and lengthy consultation within that part of the community of Christ which is the Uniting Church’s Synod of NSW & ACT, the New England North West Presbytery and the Armidale Congregation. Although at times the journey has been wearing, the outcome has indeed come from the discernment of the call of God in community, the appropriate manner for the church to seek God’s guidance. We can now rejoice together in the affirmation of the church (Congregation, Presbytery and Synod) that our immediate future extends together. We can also give thanks that that same discernment process has allowed Will Pearson to accept a call to the Broken Hill Congregation and the Presbytery of Macquarie Darling. He will be fulfilling a vital ministry in that place.
I give thanks to God for the work of those who have been involved in the discernment process for this placement: the Joint Nominating Committee, the Presbytery Pastoral Relations Committee, the Synod Placements Committee and you, the Congregation. It will now take some time for us to get to know one another better and to learn how our strengths and weaknesses may all work together in the purposes of God. That journey is sure to be an exciting, frustrating, daunting, challenging, fulfilling one. On the way, we are called to constantly seek God’s will for our lives in God’s service.
In the busyness of our contemporary world, I am constantly reminded by the resources of our faith that God’s time is not our time, nor are God’s ways our ways. It is as important for us to rest in God as it is to work for God. Resting in God keeps us in touch with God’s mission for the world in Christ and the way in which that mission continues to unfold through the power of the Holy Spirit. It is a wonderful, awe-ful thing that we are incorporated into that mission as the body of Christ, the people of God, the communion of the Spirit. Celebrating this miracle of grace is the first call on our lives and the one that will set us free to be the people whom we are called to be in Christ.
I would like to acknowledge those who have travelled some distance to be here today—particularly those from Sydney and Toowoomba; and also those many others who have sent their greetings but have been unable to be here. Many of those who are absent of been an important part of the discernment process in affirming my move into congregational ministry as an appropriate one at this time.
I also acknowledge the presence of a strong contingent from the Uniting Aboriginal and Islander Christian Congress. It is significant that, in this placement, I serve on Kamilaroi land as my step-daughter and step-grand-daughter share this heritage. I look forward to working with Congress in Christ’s ministry on this land.
So, as you have just invoked a blessing upon me, may I invoke one on you:
The God of the Ages give you peace;
Christ Jesus, Alpha and Omega, guide your path;
and the Holy Spirit who brings past and future
together in Christ
in this present moment
grant that you may rest in God’s time
and God’s purposes
for the reconciliation of the whole Creation. Amen.
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