Re-Formation
or
Keeping
the Main Thing the Main Thing
I hated Western Civilization history class
when I was in school. What did that have to do with me? It wasn’t until I was
in seminary that I got why history matters. And I think it will surprise you,
as it did me, that my church history books are just as important as my bible
commentaries when it comes to preaching and teaching in the church. (Good
church history resource – www.christianhistoryinstitute.org)
Three years ago, we celebrated the 500th
anniversary of Martin Luther’s bold move to publicize his critiques of the
Roman Catholic Church. But he was not the first to call for change. As early as
the 14th century, people expressed some of the same concerns as
published in Luther’s 95 Theses. Each of them was excommunicated from the Catholic
Church, and some of them were martyred, killed by the church for heresy, as a
corrective to others who would speak out. It didn’t work.
It’s clear that Martin Luther, while a rebel, stands on the
shoulders of preachers and theologians who preceded him. This protest reformation
of Christianity began because good, faithful people saw how far the Church had
strayed from the teachings of Jesus. They saw the value of reading scripture
themselves instead of relying a priest for interpretation. Before Luther, John
Wycliffe in England and Jan Hus in what is now the Czech Republic translated
the scripture into the languages of their people and paid the price with their
lives. It turns out an educated laity was a threat to the Church.
Luther wanted re-formation – he was
hitting the reset button, to bring people back to the basics of faith, to the
essence of the biblical story and instructions of Jesus Christ. He wanted the
church to return to the core of the Gospel message, to keep the main thing the
main thing: Love God – Love Your Neighbor.
So, this week, we are finally getting to
the passage that is my favorite. More than any other, I believe that this is
the foundational statement of who we are and how we are supposed to live. And I
say it every chance I get.
People were always asking Jesus questions
– to know him better, to gain insight into the perspective of God he was
teaching, and yes, sometimes to trip him up. “What is the greatest
commandment?” This question is proposed in each of the synoptic gospels, but
each in a different context. I do think the context is important, but we talked
about that last week, about how in Matthew’s version, Pharisees and Sadducees
were putting Jesus to the test. But underneath that premise, there is still a
question to be considered, and one that strikes at the heart of who we are.
At first glance, it seems like this is a
technical discussion – what’s the number one law, or how do you summarize the
law? But that’s not really the question that Jesus is answering. Jesus goes
further – he is answering a life-question, which at its core askes, “What does
it take to live out the commandments?” Deep down, the people wanted to know
“How can I be alive – really fully alive?[i]
And isn’t it the same for us? Even if it’s
not what we think we need, that’s the answer Jesus give us. So, let’s break it
down – loving God, loving neighbor – what does that look like for us?
The loving God part of the equation is
expressed as we worship. We sing about who God is, in praise, and as a meager
way of expressing how we experience God. In our worship service, we have many
kinds of prayers – acclamation, confession, thanksgiving, supplication. Through
prayer, we profess who God is, how we have become distanced from him, the ways
we are thankful for the gifts of our lives, and believing that God will continue
to be present in the most and least significant moments of our lives.
Whether we are gathered together on Sunday
morning, or are out in the world, living our daily lives, we experience God.
Music, art, literature, or something as simple as a sunset, a flower, or the
smile of a friend or stranger, all of these can be a witness to the God we love
with our whole being, the One who loves us even more. Loving God is the
grounding principle for our lives. But it doesn’t end there.
Jesus didn’t tell us just to love God. He
said, “the second [commandment] is like it.” Loving our neighbors, whether we
know them or not, is essential to our call as followers of Jesus. Let’s be bold
and say it here: We cannot love God without loving our neighbor. We cannot know
God without knowing our neighbor. Intimacy with God is not just established in
solitary pursuit of God. That relationship must also be lived out in community
with one another.
Hasn’t our experience of the last seven
months showed us this? In March, we were driven out of our daily lives and into
our homes by a viral pandemic that caught most of us unaware. Gone were the
daily encounters with the people who defined our days – school, work, social
groups, recreation, socializing, shopping, eating… everything changed in the
blink of an eye. For us extroverts, it was more painful that we ever could
imagine. Even for most introverts, the ongoing trial of having our world shrunk
down to its smallest margins cast a heavy burden.
[Remember Tom Hanks in “Cast Away”? Victim
of a catastrophic airplane failure and alone on a deserted island, unsure if
anyone would every find him, Tom’s character finds a volleyball among the
wreckage, puts a face on it, and calls him a friend. It turns out that
everybody needs a Wilson to help us get to the next day.[ii]]
And it wasn’t just that we were stuck at
home, or admonished to wear a mask in public… it was the loss of touch… the
loss of our communal identity… the ability to think we were making a difference
in the world. Don’t get me wrong – a lot of good things have happened in our
new online communities, and for many, virtual worship and bible study and
meetings made life bearable. But don’t you miss seeing people smile? I hate
that I have to look closely to recognize people wearing a mask, because half of
their face is hidden from me. I hate that I have to strain sometimes to hear
them, because of fabric and distance. I hate that I ask myself the question,
“Is going to this place with these people worth the risk of getting sick?” Once
simple decisions can often feel momentous.
So what does love tell us to do? This love
that Jesus speaks of here is embodied in the way he lived, and in the way he
encountered others in the gospel stories. Jesus never took the easy way out.
Too often, we use love as an excuse for taking the path of least resistance instead
of the path of excellence. We trade truth-telling for comfort, and call it
good.
We must do better. We cannot let our
definition of love be too easy on us or on others. Love is not just a feel-good
feeling of content and wellbeing. Love is often hard. Jesus tells us here, not
just to love, but to love with everything we have – our hearts, our souls, and
our minds.
Love is demanding and risky. It leads us
down difficult paths where we encounter people who do not understand our
perspectives on what it means to love and serve God and others. Jesus’ life
bears this out. Following the path of love leads him to jump into debates and
conflicts with his whole self. Love leads Jesus into all kinds of situations
that are not just uncomfortable, but dangerous. Eventually, love gets him
killed. [iii]
Of course, none of us is Jesus. But we are
called to live like him. Our commitment to serve a risen Savior asks us to take
Matthew’s testimony seriously - love isn’t about smoothing over hurt feelings
and making all things equal. It’s about seeing injustice, naming it, then
working to bring everyone to conversation and action. In all things, we must
remember that our neighbors are people just like us and we are called to love
them as much as we love ourselves.[iv]
Our reading today from Paul’s letter gives
at least three clues on how to live this kind of love. First, we are to
proclaim the gospel with courage. Now I’m not sure that Paul is talking about
just the raw courage of bravado or bravery. I think he’s talking about
something that comes before that. I think he’s also talking about confidence,
being comfortable in our own skin, not defensive, and able to listen with
respect, knowing that even when we disagree, others often have something that
share that we need to hear.
This same confidence and courage allow us
to walk outside our comfort zones, take risks, and be in relationship with
people who are very different from ourselves. It enables us to know that the
gospel is bigger than the glimpses and portions we have believed and understood
for ourselves.
Second, pleasing God is the goal, not
pleasing others. One of the most difficult parts of our faith journey is to get
a handle on the idea of humility – to be humble before God and one another.
It’s great to believe something so completely that you use that idea as the
foundation of our witness. It’s even better to know that as we grow, we change,
and our witness will change, too. We do not have a corner on the God-market.
Some days it is our time to speak, and sometimes we are called to listen,
incorporate and regroup.
And third, we are called to share
ourselves. This is perhaps the most difficult part of our witness and call to
love others because it requires us to be vulnerable. It’s only when we can
share our own joys, concerns, beliefs and doubts that we are able to understand
what love really is.[v]
I’ve been honored to partner with some
wonderful faith-based non-profits over the years. I’ve served as a pastor and
as a volunteer in faithful churches and military chapels. My own experiences of
God are formed by my experiences as a child baptized as an infant and raised in
the church, where I have served and taught as both a lay and clergy leader. I
have a seminary degree and hundreds of hours of continuing education. I have
led in dozens of bible study and small group settings. I don’t say any of this
to brag… it’s who I am.
At the same, I am never satisfied that I
have a fraction of what it takes to be 100% committed to this life of faith. I
still find myself thirsting for the knowledge and relationships that will bring
life into clearer focus. Over the last year, I have read books and listened to
podcasts of people who opened up ideas of faith I never considered. Some of
them took me inward. Many of them directed me outward. And more often than not,
I was required accept the challenge they brought to the assumptions I have made
about what is good and acceptable to the Lord.
I had a TA in seminary who completed her
PhD about the same time I got my [vi]MDiv. Diana Butler Bass
has since become a world-renowned theologian, and writer of books that are not
just accessible, but helpful to clergy and lay alike. She posted a reflection
on these passages this week, and I thought her closing message was worth
sharing here.
What could be more relevant to our elections,
to getting through the pandemic, and for facing our anxieties, than the Great
Command and the Golden Rule? Sometimes the simplest thing is the most needed
thing.
When you vote, remember: Love God, love
your neighbor.
When you don your mask, remember: Love
God, love your neighbor.
When you listen to the news, remember:
Love God, love your neighbor.
When you can’t catch your breath,
remember: Love God, love your neighbor.
Whatever you do, remember: Love God, love
your neighbor.
[i]
Derek Weber, “Pressing On,” UMC Discipleship, Preaching Notes, Oct 25, 2020 https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/worship-planning/pressing-on/reformation-sunday-year-a-lectionary-planning-notes/reformation-sunday-year-a-preaching-notes
[ii]
Cast Away, 2000
[iii]
Lance Pape, Commentary on Matthew 22:34-46, Preach This Week, Oct 26, 2014, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2202
[iv]
Ibid, Lance Pape.
[v]
Holly Hearon, Commentary on 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8, Preach This Week, Oct 23,
2011, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1045
[vi]
Diana Butler Bass, “The Simplest Thing,” https://dianabutlerbass.substack.com/p/the-simplest-thing
