Sunday, October 25, 2020

Sermon - Re-formation - Proper 25A

21st Sunday After Pentecost – 25A                                              October 25, 2020
Matthew 22:34-46                                               Panzer Chapel Liturgical Service

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.

This week’s lectionary readings led me back to these simple truths — the first things I knew of faith — love God and love neighbor — was a great gift. As I read the words, I breathed easier and felt a soulful spaciousness. “Love God, love neighbor” cleared the clutter, reminding my weary spirit of an ancient wisdom. These words have sounded forth for millennia — through political crises, times of violence, pandemics and suffering, and many a dark winter. And they have guided humankind toward justice, peace, and healing, shining their bright light in the worst of times.

 

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.

 

Peace, Deb
(C) Deb Luther Teagan, October 2, 2020




[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

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