Sunday, February 27, 2011


Strive First

Sunday, February 27, 2011
Epiphany 8
Matthew 6:24-34
Theme:  Setting priorities

24“No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.
25“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 28And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, 29yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 30But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ 32For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.  

There are passages in the Bible that speak to us in a timeless voice.  Especially passages that speak of comfort, such as the 23rd Psalm.  And there are lessons that Jesus speaks that are also equally timeless – “I am the vine, you are the branch”, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life …” the phrases just roll off the tongue and the words stick in our hearts and in our memories like Velcro. 

Today’s passage is not one of those.  At least, it doesn’t seem to be.  When Jesus said ‘do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear’, he had no idea what kind of a world we live in today. 

He didn’t know the multitude of bills that have to be paid, or the letters and calls that need to be replied to, or that the cost of gas keeps going up, and all the driving that needs to happen, or the appointments that need to be made, to say nothing of the ones that need to be KEPT … it’s just one thing after another, and another, and another. 

He didn’t know what MY LIFE was going to look like when he spoke those words almost two thousand years ago. Heck, >>I<< didn’t know just ten years ago!  How could he?    

But I’m getting ahead of myself. 

Let’s back up a little, to the opening verse of today’s passage.  Jesus is concluding the previous thought, where he was talking about wealth – back up to verses 19 & 20:

19“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; 20but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal.”     

So the beginning of today’s passage is the conclusion to that idea, one that we’ve probably heard more than once from any number of pulpits:  you can’t have more than one master at a time.  You either serve the one or serve the other, but you can’t serve both. 

But how does that tie in with worrying – or NOT worrying? 

If we begin to think that the worldly perspective makes sense, that what we HAVE determines our happiness and our worth, we begin to fall into the worldview that underlies that idea, and it might not be what you think.  The determining factor for that worldview – for what forms the BASIS for the idea that wealth equals happiness – is the idea of scarcity. 

David Lose, from Luther Seminary in St. Paul, MN, puts it this way:

“I think we live in an incredibly anxious culture. The evening news certainly depends upon worries at home and abroad to attract viewers. Commercials are constantly inviting us to worry about one more thing – usually about ourselves! – the sponsored product should supposedly solve. More and more houses seem to sport home security signs in their front lawns. And whenever I go to the airport I'm greeted outside by an electronic sign that reads, "See Suspicious Activity – Call 1-800...) and inside by an ominous voice informing me that, "The threat level, as determined by the Office for Homeland Security, is Orange." (I don't even know what "orange" is, but I'm betting it's not good.) And there it is: everywhere you turn, everywhere you look, there are visible reminders of just how much there is to worry about.”   

Let me put it into perspective for you.  If you have nice clothes to wear, AND a roof over your head AND you have a pretty good idea of where your next meal is coming from, you are already better off than several hundred million, if not a couple of billion of your fellow human being.  In fact, if each of those three factors come together for you, you are actually in a minority of the population of the earth. 

We hear a phrase periodically spoken “to preserve our way of life.” That is what it is referring to.  Yes, it is also referring to other less palpable aspects of our culture here in the United States; ideals and laws and things like that, but when it comes down to brass tacks, as they say, it is also very much a reference to our standard of living. 

And it’s not that we are necessarily turning a blind eye to the poverty that exists in the world, we’re not.  Most of the time.  But we ARE constantly reminded of the gulf that exists between us and those people and children whose faces we see in those commercials for any number of charities and help organizations that depend on our contributions to provide that charity or that help. 

And what comes out of that is the idea that scarcity equals unhappiness.  And the converse of that idea is that plenty – or wealth – equals happiness.  And our response to that underlying presupposition is that we begin to be concerned with avoiding scarcity.  We begin to spend a lot of energy and time in the accumulation of material possessions, or figuring out how we are going to acquire material possessions, or how we are going to KEEP material possessions.   
David Lose goes on:

So why can't we give our allegiance and worship to money? Because to do so is to fall prey to the larger worldview that crowns money lord in the first place: scarcity. Again, the issue isn't money per se; the problem comes when we make money our god – ‘that thing,’ as Martin Luther once observed, ‘which we trust for our every good.’ Once we believe that money can satisfy our deepest needs, then we suddenly discover that we never have enough. Money, after all, is finite. And so once we decide money grants security, then we are ushered immediately into a world of counting, tracking, and stock piling. No wonder we worry - in a world of scarcity, there is simply never enough.



The alternative Jesus invites us to consider is entering into relationship with God, the God who is infinite and whose love for us and all creation is infinite as well. Love operates from a different "economy" than money. I mean, when our second child came along, I didn't divide my love for our first child between the two, I suddenly had more love, more than I could possibly have imagined before. No doubt you've noticed the same thing: how the more love you give away, the more you have. Love – and especially God's love – cannot be counted, tracked or stockpiled. And when you live in this kind of relationship of love and trust, you've entered into the realm of abundance, the world of possibility, the world of contentment. Suddenly, in this world – Jesus calls it the "kingdom of God" – not worrying actually becomes an option.



I know, I know, it's hard to believe in this world of abundance that Jesus proclaims, this world that invites us to trust God's faithfulness like a flower does spring or sail upon the currents of God's love like a bird does the air. This is why, in the end, Jesus dies – not to somehow pay for our sins (there we go tracking and counting again), but because those in power were so invested in the world of scarcity that abundance was downright frightening, even threatening. Scarcity, after all, creates fear, and fear creates devotion to those who will protect you (think "threat level orange" again). Abundance, on the other hand, produces freedom. So rather than imagine Jesus' world of abundance, and committed to keeping the power they derived from a fear born of scarcity, the rulers of Jesus' day put him to death (see John 3:17 and following).



But God doesn't operate from scarcity; God operates out of abundance. So in response to the crucifixion of God's Son, God does not, in fact, keep track, or look for payment, or hoard power with which to destroy the offenders; instead, God resurrects – which, when you think about it, is the ultimate act of abundance: creating something, once again, out of nothing, drawing light from darkness, giving life to the dead.



This is the world Jesus invites us into: a world of abundance, generosity, and new life. But it is also a world of fragility, trust, and vulnerability. Lilies and birds, after all, can't defend themselves but must trust God's providence and love.

What does this mean for Jerusalem Baptist Church at Emmerton? 

It means we have to become adept at identifying when that other worldview – the one that feeds on fear and seems to come so natural – is informing our thought process and our motivations, and stand against it, and in the reality of the Kingdom, where there is an abundance and a generosity that comes directly from God.

What priorities can we set that would reflect that Kingdom reality rather than the worldly reality?  What projects would we take on that would speak to the fact that we DO strive first to live out of the abundance of God’s love rather than of our fear that there won’t be enough to go around? 

What would we dare to do if we daily lived in THAT Kingdom reality?

Let’s pray.  

Sunday, February 20, 2011


Belonging

Sunday, February 20, 2011
Epiphany 7A
Jerusalem Baptist Church (Emmerton), Warsaw VA
Text: 1 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23

10According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building on it. Each builder must choose with care how to build on it.11For no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid; that foundation is Jesus Christ.
16Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you? 17If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person. For God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple.18Do not deceive yourselves. If you think that you are wise in this age, you should become fools so that you may become wise. 19For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God. For it is written, “He catches the wise in their craftiness,” 20and again, “The Lord knows the thoughts of the wise, that they are futile.”21So let no one boast about human leaders. For all things are yours, 22whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future—all belong to you, 23and you belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God.

Last Saturday afternoon, knowing that Leslie would be preaching on Sunday, I decided to set myself a task:  assembling Hannah’s new dresser.  It came in 3 flat boxes from the store.  I began at 3:30, opening, unpacking, counting and organizing all the pieces, and, with a little help from Hannah turning the thing over in the later stages, was finally done at 10:30 that night. Even though I freely admit to being mechanically challenged, there are some things that I DO feel capable of doing.  I managed to complete the job with only one small blister and one small cut.

To be able to watch it come together from all the seemingly hundreds of little pieces and flat boards into this big, solid piece of furniture was a deeply satisfying experience.  I’m pretty sure the single determining factor was the fact that I was able to see the project move from beginning to end, and the end product was … something concrete, something I could put my hands on and touch.  Something that was easily quantifiable – easily measurable. 

Not all the tasks to which we set our minds are that clearly defined, that cut-and-dried.  Especially when it comes to spiritual ones.

Paul was dealing with that issue in his continuing interaction with the church at Corinth: the fact that it was not a completed work, but a work in progress.   

In the first few verses of chapter 3, Paul uses language that evokes the image of a farmer. It would be familiar to the Hebrews of his day, who would have grown up with the concept of Israel as being referred to in Isaiah 5 and in Ezekiel 36 as a garden or a vineyard, in those passages, each servant has a God-given task to carry out.  These tasks are meaningful and necessary work.  One plants the seed another waters the land … but growth?  Growth is a gift.  Those who have worked to plant and water can only do one thing once their work is done, and that is to wait.  They cannot make a plant grow.  It is the same with spiritual growth. 

Paul continues the description with a different metaphor, that of a building.  There is the foundation that has been laid in the person of Jesus Christ, and that is what he is building on – he or whoever comes after him. 

The point he is making is that each of the builders – whether himself or someone else – is working towards the same end – the completion of the building.  Just as the farmer and the farmhand go about different tasks to the same end – the harvest – so it is with Paul and other apostles who come and preach and teach the people of the Corinthian church – to deepen their faith, to strengthen them, and to help them mature in their knowledge and understanding of the Gospel.  They are not in competition with each other but are collaborators, coworkers for the Kingdom.  It is the noblest thing that can be said of anyone who works for the Kingdom, that we are fellow workers for God.

I remember in youth group how 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 was always brought up when the discussion turned to how we were to treat our bodies as young people. 

19Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God, and that you are not your own? 20For you were bought with a price; therefore glorify God in your body.

It would seem that verses 16 and 17 are an early reference to that same thought, and while that IS one way to understand and interpret those verses, and there IS a valid point to be made, their focus is different at this point in the letter. 

Paul is using the plural form of ‘you’ here.  He is speaking to the Corinthian church as a whole – as a congregation.  This is one place where the King James English serves a clarifying purpose in it’s use of ‘ye’, rather than the modern English ‘you’ that has come to be used for both singular and plural cases. 

Note what Paul is saying: that the Spirit of God – the Holy Spirit – dwells in us both as individuals AND as a community – and that even as we would seek to allow the Spirit to show himself through us by individual action, we are just as bound to allow the Spirit to show himself by COMMUNAL action.  The two go hand in hand. 

We cannot say that the Holy Spirit is working through and dwelling in us when our words or actions are tearing at the spirit of unity, at the willingness to work together for the Gospel, when they are causing strife and dissent and conflict in the larger community of believers.  That is not an easy thing to say or an easy thing to dwell on, but it is one of the lessons we have from the Corinthian church.  There were factions that had formed within the church that were still living as they had in the world before they heard the Gospel, still separating themselves from other believers based on status and wealth and position, still looking down on the poorer and marginalized members of their same community, and considering themselves to be holier because of it. 

Paul is reminding the Corinthians that they are ALL – each and every one of them – a member of that Holy Temple of God, and he gives warning in verse 17 to anyone who destroys the unity of that Temple.  There is some uncertainty as to whether he is directing the comment to particular individual or to a group of individuals in the church, but it is, in either case, a sobering thought. 

Paul then goes back to the themes he’s touched on earlier in the letter – those of factions and of wisdom.  He again uses the word ‘sophia’ in verse 18.  His juxtaposition of the ‘wisdom of this age’ over and against the foolishness of God again underscores how we as humans so easily fall back on trusting our own ability to achieve so much that we extend that skill to … everything. 

For most of our 50,000 years of recorded history, we gazed at the moon and wondered what it was, what it was made of and how far away it was. And finally, we decided to engage the challenge. Our technology had advanced to the point where it was almost within our reach, and from that day in September 1962 when President Kennedy announced our intention to put a man on the moon within the decade, we set our minds to it and completed the task within seven years of that date of that speech. 

Our abilities and skills and knowledge have grown exponentially in the intervening decades.  And our hubris – our pride – has kept pace with that growth.  There is an almost breathless anticipation to know and to see what we are capable of.  To be sure, we are capable of what would even in the relatively recent past be considered miracles.  To be able to instantly communicate with someone thousands of miles away simply by pushing some buttons and placing a device next to our ear, or to be able to open the chest of a living human being and repair a tear in the tissue of an organ and close them back up and have that person recovery to full health, would be unimaginable to our ancestors.

There is a measure of justification in being proud of an extraordinary accomplishment, but hubris is something else – it is unmitigated pride – pride without humility, pride that ignores the fact that we are created beings, frail and fraught with weaknesses and flaws.

We are SO skilled, SO capable, SO gifted by God to be so creative and inventive, that we tend to forget where the gift comes from, so dazzled are we by our fancy trinkets.

It is a fundamental point to understand that if we begin to rely on our own abilities, our own skills and knowledge as a way to understand and master the relationship between God and us, and by that understanding we are attempting to close that gap ourselves, we are trying to be the arbiters of our own salvation, and that is something that only God is in a position to do.  There is no form of human understanding, of human wisdom, that can hope to fully grasp the mystery of the cross.

I wrestle with it even now.  I question the why of the sacrifice, the why of the atonement, why the need for all of that – the passion – to take place at all.  It seems, to my supposedly modern sensibilities, such an archaic thing, a barbaric thing.  I would much rather find a cooler, less passionate, cleaner, clearer, simpler act that God might have taken in order to redeem the world to God’s self.

There must be a radical break in our understanding of wisdom.  It is a turning away from our self-centered wisdom and an acceptance of God-centered wisdom that is revealed in the cross of Christ.  Not what we can learn about life in the world, or the Solar System, or the galaxy, but what God reveals at the cross – THAT is wisdom.  It’s not that we SHOULDN’T strive to learn as much about life in the world, the Solar System and so on, but that we must keep in perspective what that knowledge is to be used for. 

Verse 21 – ‘for all things are yours’ … Paul steps back and is saying to the Corinthians, ‘look, yes, there is all this knowledge and all this wonder and it is all there and it is all good, but it is not to be used to divide you from your brothers and sisters in Christ.’ His essential call to the Corinthians is for unity in Christ.  He again brings in the factions, speaking perhaps euphemistically of those belonging to him, or to Apollos, or to Cephas, and he expands it to encompass the whole of human knowledge – ‘the world, or life or death, or the present or the future,’ and he says that that way of thinking is irrelevant to the Kingdom.  We all belong to Christ, and through Christ we all belong to God.   

What does this mean for Jerusalem Baptist church at Emmerton?

I wondered as I was putting this message together how many of you would begin to question at a certain point in it whether I was directing the message at a particular situation within our community of faith.  Let me assure you I am not – at least not intentionally – not KNOWINGLY.

I simply think it is helpful to visit the lessons we find in scripture at any point in our walk, in our joint pilgrimage, as we travel this road together, to have maybe a dispassionate view – a view at a distance – of a situation with which we may have been faced in the past or with which we may be faced with at some point in the future. 

In doing that, my prayer is that we would be able to step back and remember the lesson that our spiritual ancestors at Corinth laid out for us as they struggled with their own faith and their own identity as a community of faith.

Let’s pray.