The Word of the Lord

A sermon preached at Southminster
October 25, 2009

1 Kings 17

As you may have already read in the bulletin, today is Reformation Sunday. Our Call to Worship, prayers of confession illumination, and other pieces in the service today date from the early years of the Reformation—back in the mid 16^th century. Our hymns today were written by early Reformers as well.

On this last Sunday in October each year, we take a look back at our roots as Presbyterians and as Christians of the Reformed tradition. While the Presbyterian Church grew from the Reformation in Scotland, we also trace our history back to the reformers in Europe—Martin Luther, John Calvin, and many others. On Oct 31, 1517, Martin Luther had some ideas to reform his beloved church. So he nailed them to the door of the cathedral in Wittenberg. 95 ideas in a long list. And while there were people talking about reform before Luther, it is to this moment in history that we put a start date on the Reformation.

Among those ideas that changed the world and influenced our worship today was the understanding of the Priesthood of all believers—which means that we don’t believe that people like me, who are ordained to the priesthood or ministry, are holier than you are. Each of us is capable and encouraged in community to seek an experience of the Divine directly. Rather than mediating your faith through the priest (think of confessions, the selling of indulgences, etc), the reformers believed that we could pray our confessions to God. I know many of you are not fans of the prayer of confession, but try to see it as an act of liberation. Rather than have to come and speak your confessions to me, you are free to approach God yourself. This belief also led to the idea that the Bible should be read by the people in their own languages, and not just by the clergy in Latin. One of the reasons that Presbyterians are known for starting schools all over the world is because you have to know how to read in order to read the Bible. The very act of reading the Bible is a claim we make that God can and does speak to each of us.

In our Year of the Bible readings this week, we began the story of the prophet Elijah.

If you lost interest in daily bible reading somewhere back in Leviticus or Numbers, or feel as if you fell so far behind that you can’t start reading again, I invite you to pick it up with the story of Elijah, which begins in 1 Kings 17. Elijah is a pivotal figure in the history of Israel and is in the minds of many of our New Testament authors. It is to Elijah that John the Baptist and Jesus are often connected, so knowing the story of Elijah will help you understand how 1^st Century Jews understood the person of Jesus of Nazareth. Additionally, the story of Elijah is just great storytelling.

As Elijah’s story begins, Ahab is king of Israel. So the united kingdom that Solomon had inherited has divided into the Northern Kindgom of Israel and the Southern Kingdom of Judah.

And Ahab, in the Northern Kingdom, is more evil than any king before him, which is saying something because many of the kings before him were about as evil as you could imagine. In addition to being a bad and evil king, Ahab also married Jezebel, who was Phoenician, from the city of Sidon, shown in blue at the top of the map. While there are plenty of biblical examples of foreigners being faithful and good members of society, Jezebel would not be one of them. Jezebel and Ahab are the poster children of evil, idol worshipping, unfaithful, bad, bad leaders. And Jezebel gives a face to the Biblical campaign against intermarriage. “See—we told you what would happen when you married foreign women!”

And so Elijah appears on the scene to tell Ahab, “as the Lord, the God of Israel lives, there shall be neither dew nor rain these years, except by my word”. The punishment for Ahab’s evil is a drought.

And while the drought may come because of the Word of God, note that sustenance in the midst of drought come from God as well. God instructs Elijah to a wadi, or a riverbed or canyon, where there is water. And the ravens feed him in the morning and the evening. So before we move on to the rest of this story, remember that the life of faith is not a promise that you won’t go through a drought, but when you are in a proverbial drought, God will provide. It may just be water in a nearly dry riverbed and food provided by birds, but God does not leave us alone.

Eventually even the riverbed runs dry and the Word of the Lord sends Elijah to someone for help. He goes to Zarephath, a Phoenician town near Sidon, which today would be in Lebanon. So the Word of the Lord sends Elijah to one of these foreign women the rest of the Bible keeps warning us about. And a widow, at that. Women left their own families when they were married and became a part of their husband’s family. But her husband is dead. And a woman without a man to look out for her is in trouble in that culture. This widow, as it turns out, is preparing to make her own last supper. She’s out of food and resources. She and her son are about to die from lack of food.

And Elijah asks her to bring him some water and some bread.

I’m not sure how I would feel if I were about to die and God’s prophet came and asked for my last little bit of food. I suspect my answer would not have been nearly as nice as hers.

And then Elijah gives her an answer that we normally hear from angels when they encounter humans—“Do not be afraid.” What follows the Word of the Lord’s instructions to share her food is a blessing.

Do not be afraid. You may think you are about to die, but you’re not.

Do not be afraid. You may not think you have enough to share, but you do.

Do not be afraid. God doesn’t ask you to give your last food unless God is about to do something big.

Elijah goes on to tell the woman that her jar of meal will not run empty and her jug of oil will not fail. Until the rains fall again, she will have enough to eat.

Elijah is great and all. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a big fan. But this widow from Zarephath is my new hero. Perhaps her husband’s family would have taken care of her in normal times, but they are in a drought, the worst economic situation since the Great Depression. She’s on her own. Food stamps have been cut off.

And she’s not even an Israelite. Did you notice what she said to Elijah? “As the Lord, YOUR God, lives, I have nothing baked…” This isn’t even her God she’s helping out.

And then, in a great act of faith, she takes the last of her meal, scraping out the bottom of the jar with her spatula to get every last bit, and she takes the last of her oil, shaking the jug upside down over the pot until all of the oil has drip, drip dripped its way out of the jug, and she puts it in the oven. She didn’t have enough to sustain herself and her son, yet she trusts the word of Elijah’s God and offers that small loaf to sustain her, her son, and Elijah.

She does not say, as soon as God fills up my pantry, I’d be happy to make you some bread.

She does not say, I’d love to help you, but times are tight. Surely you understand why I can’t donate right now.

She does not say, I’d love to help you, but I don’t know you and I’m not sure what you did to end up hungry.

She doesn’t ask Elijah to explain how he got himself in this situation. He’s hungry. She feeds him. Possibly at risk to herself and her child. She doesn’t wait for proof from God either. She hears the Word of someone else’s God and she responds in faith.

We’re beginning our Stewardship Campaign and beginning to plan for the 2010 budget and the parallels are strong between this text and our lives. Our community is also in a drought. Times are tight for many people. Yet the Word of the Lord comes to us and says,

Do not be afraid. You may think you are out of resources, but you’re not.

Do not be afraid. You may not think you have enough to share, but you do.

Do not be afraid. God doesn’t ask you to give unless God is about to do something big.

Our task of stewardship is similar to what the widow of Zarephath experienced. We listen for the Word of God to come to us, even if we’re in the midst of an economic drought. Then we trust the Word of God and go out on faith to do something important. Because Stewardship happens in that order too. We don’t wait for something great to get started and then say, “okay, I’ll support that”.

Stewardship is an act of faith, of saying, “Here’s what I’ll contribute to what God is dreaming to do with Southminster in our community”. And then, once your pledges are in, the Session can build the budget.

We have to bake our loaves even before God has filled the jars with meal and the jugs with oil.

By committing to pledge to Southminster, each year you are like the widow from Zaraphath, answering God’s call to be a witness of faith in this community.

If every member of Southminster pledged what they could pledge, do you know what we could do?

Many of you have talked about wanting to help our youth program grow, but that takes resources. People have dreamed about fixing up our aging facilities, but that takes resources. Ten percent of our budget currently goes to mission work in the church. This year we’d like to increase that to support more local agencies. Think about the people in our community who could be fed, and clothed, and supported as they get back on their feet and out of homelessness. Each of us, individually, may be able to just do a little. But when we respond to God’s call, our jars will never run empty and our jugs will always have oil.

But as we read the text, we realize that the feeding isn’t the real miracle. At least it isn’t the only one. What the work of nourishment does is set in place the chance for new life.

Because the widow’s son falls ill and dies. But Elijah cries out to God, using his own words to seek a miracle. And the Lord listens to Elijah and life returns to the widow’s son.

All of our work in stewardship, planning, and administering the work of the church is not just so we can say we have planned, budgeted and worked. It is so we can be a place of miracles. Who knows what God may do yet in this place! When the widow invited Elijah into her home, her son wasn’t ill. She didn’t let him so he could heal her son. This miracle was something she couldn’t even imagine she would need.

What, yet, may God do for this place? Let us listen for the word of the Lord in the midst of our lives, so we may respond in faith. And may we be on the lookout for miracles that will result. Amen.

Wisdom

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian
October 18, 2009

Job 28:12-28
1 Kings 3:1-28

We are moving deeper into the history of Israel’s kings as we read through the Bible. Saul has risen and fallen. David rises, and falls as well. But the writers of Samuel and Kings want to make sure we’re reminded that David is still God’s king. Despite his, because of his?, very human foibles and strengths, David reigned for 40 years before he “slept with his ancestors” (1 Kings 2:10). His reign was the glory days. It was as if they even knew it at the time. And, while Israel may never have really been as important politically as these histories suggest, his reign was the pinnacle. It is to the reign of David that Israel still looks back. It is over Jerusalem, the City of David, that Israel still fights for possession with their Palestinian brothers and sisters.

So, David has left the stage, but notice, as you read through Kings, how much he is still present in the story. Notice how the damage and the glory from his reign are still playing out. The writers of Kings will seemingly take any and every opportunity to remind us of David.

Solomon, the son of David by Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite, is now king. It was a bloody road that led to his coronation, but once on the throne, he makes a politically astute marriage to the daughter of the Pharaoh. Now, hopefully, he can at least have some peace on that side of his border. And the writers also tell us that Solomon loved the Lord, walking in the statutes of his father David.

Clearly, for the writer of 1 Kings, the legitimacy of Solomon’s reign is beyond question. True, he was not born of David’s first wife. True, he was not the eldest son of David. Yet, it is to Solomon that the wisdom and understanding of God are given as they are given to no other mortal.

You can understand how our ancestors understood kings to be divinely ordained after reading this text.

As you read more about Solomon this week, notice that he’s also a renaissance man. He talks about plants and animals, so he’s a botanist and a biologist. People came from all over the world to hear his wisdom. He composed 3,000 proverbs and 1,005 songs. Not to mention his 700 wives and 300 concubines.

His story is told in inhuman terms. He is the Superman of the ancient world because nobody could really emulate him. We could look at him and aspire, but the bar is set too high.

And God appears to Solomon in a dream—“ask what I should give you”, says God.

What would we ask for?

The ability to fly?

Health, wealth, and happiness?

A winning lottery ticket so we could build a fellowship hall that was more easily accessible for people with mobility issues?

A BCS championship game for the Broncos?

But Solomon gives the answer that makes the rest of us look bad. As soon as we hear him say, “give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil…” we think, “yeah, what he said. That’s what I meant to say, God. I was joking about the lottery ticket.”

Solomon has answered well. He is King David’s son, after all. And God gives him a wise and discerning mind. God also then gives him riches and honor, which he did not ask for.

And then Solomon woke up from his dream.

Do you wonder what he thought as he woke up?

Was it real?

How long will it take until I know?

We aren’t told if Solomon’s wisdom came upon him immediately, or if he took the more normal course of acquiring wisdom, gradually, and usually after making mistakes. But we’re told he gets more than anyone. Ever. On earth.

And then the famous example of Solomon’s wisdom is presented. Two women come to him to solve a dispute. For many people in my generation, this text is better known by its use in a Seinfeld episode a few years back, when Kramer and Elaine fight over the ownership of a vintage bicycle. (“The Seven” is the name of the episode).

I’d like to tell you that being a subject of the wisest king ever would have made your Israelite life easier, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. In order to feed his household each day, the people of Israel had to provide 175 gallons of flour, 300 gallons of meal, 10 fat oxen, 20 pasture fed cattle, 100 sheep, and deer, gazelles, roebucks, and fowl. That was food for a day.

And Solomon was quite a builder, building up defensive battlements, palaces, and the first temple in Jerusalem. So he conscripted laborers from Israel. 30,000 men who tooks shifts cutting down the cedars of Lebanon. 70,000 laborers and 80,000 stone cutters.

The writer of 1^st Kings will talk about how happy the people were to do this labor and to provide this food, because there was peace in the land. But I wonder.

How did Solomon use his wisdom to benefit his kingdom?

I know that’s a 21^st century view of an ancient text, but I still think it is a fair question. Keep it in mind as you read through this narrative this week.

Why does even wisdom fail us? Even with the wisdom of Solomon, people still have to slave away as conscripted laborers. Even with the wisdom of Solomon, life is hard.

Our other text this morning, from Job 28, should serve as a reminder for us, whenever we start thinking that any one human’s wisdom will make it all better.

“Where shall wisdom be found? And where is the place of understanding? Mortals do not know the way of it and it is not found in the land of the living.”

The writer of Job seems to be saying, “yes, I’ve read your “history” of Solomon and let me state it more clearly. Stop trying to look for wisdom in the faces of your neighbors or yourselves.”

You can search the earth and find gold, and silver, and precious gems. But there are no deposits of wisdom buried in the ground.

The deep doesn’t know where wisdom is. The sea hasn’t found it anywhere in its watery depths.

You could take all of the pearls, sapphires, coral, onyx, gold, and silver on the earth and not have enough money to purchase wisdom.

Not even the character of Death has a hold of wisdom.

But God understands the way to it. And God knows its place for God looks to the end of the earth and sees everything under the heavens.

I don’t know if this answer is comforting for you—that we can never have the wisdom of God, to see why things happen as they do, to know the exact right thing to do in any given situation, because we are not God. Because we do not have the same view that God does.

Like the writers of Kings, we want to know that there is someone we can turn to who will know what to do, who will have all of the answers. We find our Solomons in many different places.

This larger narrative is a good reminder to us when we think that one person is going to save us. Whether that’s Barack Obama, Ronald Reagan, or Coach Pete, the limits of human wisdom let us down time and again.

The story of Solomon is a cautionary tale for us. Where shall wisdom be found? And where is the place of understanding?

Without giving away all of the story you’ll be reading in Kings, I can say that all of Solomon’s many blessings seem to complicate his life. He may have had great wisdom, but he didn’t have the view that God does. Building the first temple in Jerusalem may have seemed a wise decision, but was the conscription of tens of thousands of laborers worth it? And 700 wives? Really?

The author of Job leaves us with an interesting line. After telling us that wisdom is not to be found by humans, he tells us where wisdom can be found: “Truly, the fear of the Lord is wisdom. To depart from evil is understanding.”

Fear of the Lord.

A number of you have questioned me about what it means to “fear the Lord” as the phrase has shown up in our readings this year. You don’t fear the Lord in the same way you fear tigers, terrorists, and snakes. CS Lewis, in the Problem of Pain describes “Fear of the Lord” as being filled with awe, feeling wonder or a sense of inadequacy when you consider your relationship with God. It is, above all, grounded in love. It is not a fear that leads to despair but a fear that leads to humility. Fear of the Lord is understanding that only God can see the bigger picture. Fear of the Lord requires trusting that we are safely in God’s hands, no matter in what situation we may find ourselves.

So, what are we to do with these two texts that don’t seem to agree about wisdom?

The book by former General Assembly Moderator Jack Rogers that we are using in our Adult Ed class right now ("Jesus, The Bible, and Homosexuality") gives us some guidelines for interpreting Scripture. While I appreciate all of the guidelines presented, one really seems to fit the dilemma we’re in with wisdom.

“Guideline 1: Recognize that Jesus Christ, the Redeemer, is the center of Scripture. The redemptive activity of God is central to the entire Scripture. The Old Testament themes of covenant and the messiah testify to this activity. In the center of the New Testament is Jesus Christ—the Word made flesh, the fulfillment of Israel’s messianic hope, and the promise of the Kingdom. It is to Christ that the church witnesses. When interpreting Scripture, keeping Christ in the center aids in evaluating the significance of the problems and controversies that always persist in the vigorous, historical life of the church.”

This does not mean that the writers of the Old Testament knew about Jesus. They aren’t fortune tellers predicting a future they can’t possibly imagine. But it does mean that as Christians, we can’t help but see the Old Testament in light of Jesus.

And when we think of God’s wisdom, it is likely not to Solomon that we would look back. It is to Jesus. Jesus is the only person that I know of in history who was able to see things from God’s view point. If you think of what he taught his disciples, his wisdom was not your standard human variety—it actually was often in opposition to human wisdom. Listen to his advice from Matthew 5:

‘You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile.”

He took the Levitical command of an eye for an eye, which was a reminder of justice—if someone has taken something from you, the only thing you can demand in return is that same item. So, if I steal a pair of your shoes, it doesn’t allow you to take my car in return.

He took this command and turned it on its head.

If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, the Levitical way to solve the problem would be to hit them on their right cheek. And violence, we know, tends to escalate. So Jesus command to not hit back, but to offer the other side of your face runs counter to the wisdom of the world.

So, as you read about Wisdom as it threads its way through our Year of the Bible, I invite you to consider that our best example of God’s wisdom on earth is the person of Jesus Christ. May his example guide us in the way we should go.

‘Where then does wisdom come from?
And where is the place of understanding?

‘God understands the way to it,
and he knows its place.
²⁴For he looks to the ends of the earth,
and sees everything under the heavens.
²⁵When he gave to the wind its weight,
and apportioned out the waters by measure;
²⁶when he made a decree for the rain,
and a way for the thunderbolt;
²⁷then he saw it and declared it;
he established it, and searched it out.
²⁸And he said to humankind,
“Truly, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom;
and to depart from evil is understanding.”

Amen

You are that man

2 Samuel 12:1-12

A Sermon preached at Southminster
October 4, 2009
World Communion Sunday

Our reading today is from a text that will be coming up this week in Year of the Bible. Second Samuel opens with the death of King Saul. I don’t think I’ll be giving anything away by saying that David becomes king after him. And, as king, David sings a song, lamenting the death of God’s anointed king Saul. The refrain of this song is “how the mighty have fallen”.

David at age 30 becomes king and unites Israel and Judah, the northern and southern regions that generally include the land we today call Israel.
And he has everything. And God has even promised him that “Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever.”

And you know how it is, once you have everything? You tend to want more. Humans have a difficult time being satisfied with what we have. And David sees Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite, bathing on her roof. And he wants what he doesn’t have.

If you are unfamiliar with this story, you’ll encounter it in your readings this week, but suffice it to say, he takes what he wants and then he finds a way to get rid of Uriah so that he can marry Bathsheba.

And this is where our text picks up today:
“But the thing that David had done displeased the LORD, and the LORD sent Nathan to David. He came to him, and said to him, “There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and the other poor. The rich man had very many flocks and herds; but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb, which he had bought. He brought it up, and it grew up with him and with his children; it used to eat of his meager fare, and drink from his cup, and lie in his bosom, and it was like a daughter to him. Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was loath to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man’s lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had come to him.” Then David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man. He said to Nathan, “As the LORD lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.”

Nathan said to David, “You are the man! Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel: I anointed you king over Israel, and I rescued you from the hand of Saul; I gave you your master’s house, and your master’s wives into your bosom, and gave you the house of Israel and of Judah; and if that had been too little, I would have added as much more. Why have you despised the word of the LORD, to do what is evil in his sight? You have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword, and have taken his wife to be your wife, and have killed him with the sword of the Ammonites. Now therefore the sword shall never depart from your house, for you have despised me, and have taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be your wife. Thus says the LORD: I will raise up trouble against you from within your own house; and I will take your wives before your eyes, and give them to your neighbor, and he shall lie with your wives in the sight of this very sun. For you did it secretly; but I will do this thing before all Israel, and before the sun.”



Imagine being the Prophet Nathan.
God comes to you and says, “Remember my favorite son, David? I need you to go to him and tell him how very disappointed I am!”

There is nothing in the text that suggests Nathan was as reluctant as I would be with such an assignment. But surely he paused and thought…David will kill me. He’s God’s chosen king. Everyone loves him. Okay, everyone but the family of Uriah the Hittite. Even Saul’s own family wanted him to be king instead of Saul. David gets away with everything he wants—how will I make him listen to me long enough to deliver God’s message?

So he tells a story about a man and his lambs. It seems so obvious to us. Can’t you imagine it?
Nathan says, “O king, let me tell you a story.”
“Oh goodie!,” David says. “I love stories!”
“There was a man. And he had lots of lambs, including a lamb that was the daughter of the previous king. And there was another man. And he only had one lamb. His one lamb liked to bathe on the rooftop.”

Okay, Nathan wasn’t quite that obvious.

Because David falls for the trap. “As the LORD lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity!!!”

David quickly and easily pronounces judgment on this lamb stealer. But in real life, in the world where David has taken another man’s wife, the judgment is neither quick or easy. Because Uriah the Hittite is dead. His life can’t be restored.

Bathsheba’s honor can’t really be restored either. And punishing David is tricky too. Because the people love him. God loves him. And God has promised him that God’s hesed, his steadfast love, shall never depart from David’s house.

But Nathan pronounces God’s judgment—you are that man! God gave you EVERYTHING and if that wasn’t enough, God would have given you MORE! And while God’s steadfast love will never depart from your house, now the sword will never depart from your house. What you did secretly, God will do to you publicly.
How the mighty have fallen indeed.

While this passage is about the aftermath of David’s sexual misbehavior and sin, it is not only about that. David’s last phrase, when he pronounces judgment on the lamb stealer is, “because he had no pity”. The word in Hebrew means more than pity. It means compassion, mercy, concern for your fellow human being.

So David, himself, correctly identifies the broader issue in his situation. He had no compassion. He didn’t care about those around him.

But how could David not see the connection between David’s wives and the man’s lambs? One thing I’ve learned about scripture is that when it is too easy for me to see something, it means I’m missing something. So where is that text playing out in our lives and is it as easy for me as it was for David to miss the connection?

One thought I had was just about the abundance we have as Americans. Now clearly some Americans have much more than others, but 99% of Americans have more than most of the people on this planet. From the safety and peace in which we can live out our daily lives, to size and comforts of our homes and the vast quantity of food at our disposal, we have more and more and more.

And yet, we want more. Our whole economy seems to be built on the premise that we need to keep buying things. I can hear Nathan saying to us, “You are that country! Why do you need more? God has blessed you and yet you keep taking more!”

I don’t know if you’ve followed the climate change treaties lately. I have not read up on them so I’m not advocating a vote one way or another, but I do see the parallels between the United States and King David. We are arguing that China should cut their emissions, because China is the number one contributor to Carbon Dioxide pollution with 21.5 %. The United States is the second highest contributor of Carbon Dioxide pollution at 20.2%. It sounds as if America’s participation in emission reduction will require China to make concessions first.

But the emissions numbers are only a part of the story. Because China also has 19.6% of the world’s population. The United States? We have 4.5% of the world’s population.
On some level, shouldn’t it make sense that 20% of the world’s population would emit 20% of the world’s carbon dioxide?

Yet we are refusing to reduce our emission levels until China does, even though we’re using, proportionally, way more than we should. Listening to the debate on climate change made me think of Nathan’s announcement to David—You are that man! You are that country that is taking far more than you need, far more than your share!

And hopefully you have discerned this about me already, but I am always preaching to myself. Hopefully I preach to you sometimes as well. But I drove here this morning in my SUV. I am not saying you need to change. I’m saying WE, as a nation, need to consider how our living impacts the planet and the other 6 billion people with whom we share it. How much is enough?

I thought of another parallel to the David story, of wanting more than you need, from our reading in 1 Corinthians last week. In Chapter 11, Paul is talking to them about communion practices. When Paul’s communities celebrated communion, it was an actual meal. They would gather around the table and eat dinner. And each of them brought their own food. But in Corinth, at least, it doesn’t sound like they were sharing their food.

If Southminster were Corinth, some of you would have brought peanut butter sandwiches from home and would be drinking a glass of water at communion today. Others of you would have ordered pizza and brought a few 2 liters of soft drinks. And still others of you would have brought huge feasts of prime rib and $100 scotch. So, imagine how welcome you would feel at the Lord’s table if all you had to bring was a sandwich, and it looked as if everyone around you was getting drunk on fine wine and expensive food. How would it feel if your neighbor had a huge bottle of wine, saw your empty cup, and didn’t offer you any? As David would say, they had no compassion, no care for each other.

Here is what Paul had to say to them.
“For, to begin with, when you come together as a church, I hear that there are divisions among you; and to some extent I believe it. Indeed, there have to be factions among you, for only so will it become clear who among you are genuine. When you come together, it is not really to eat the Lord’s supper.
For when the time comes to eat, each of you goes ahead with your own supper, and one goes hungry and another becomes drunk. What!? Do you not have homes to eat and drink in? Or do you show contempt for the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing? What should I say to you? Should I commend you? In this matter I do not commend you!
For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.”

It may be difficult for us to recognize ourselves in this Corinthians text because our communion practices are so different than theirs were. And when we do have actual meals, all are invited and we share. Who knew there was scriptural justification for potluck meals?

And while everyone who is in this room is certainly invited to this table—who is not here? Are there people who don’t feel welcome in our midst? Are there other ways that our church practices serve to divide rather than to build up?

Today is World Communion Sunday, which started in the Presbyterian Church in 1936, and quickly spread to other denominations across the world. On this day, especially, we remember that as Christians, we are a part of a much larger body of Christ than this congregation, or this presbytery, or this denomination. We will come to this table and celebrate the same meal as will our brothers and sisters in Pocatello, Poughkeepsie, and Poland.

And the inequities that divide us, the differences that get in our ways, can be overcome because of who invites us to this Table. If this were our table, we’d likely find ways to keep people out, or make conditions about who can come. But this is not our Table. It is Christ who invites us to God’s Table.

This morning we also collect the Peacemaking Offering. This offering is one of the denominational offerings that we collect each year. Part of the money will stay here in this community. The rest of it will go to work for peace throughout the world.
As we come to the Table and give to this offering, we have the opportunity to participate in something much bigger than us. We can make a difference in the world by remembering to have compassion for our brothers and sisters in this room and our brothers and sisters around the world. Let us set aside the things that divide us so that we may come together at this Table, where there is room for all, and where everyone can get what they need. Amen.

Victory and Defeat

1 Samuel 7:1-17

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian Church

Where is God in victory and defeat?
That’s the question I see in this text and I’ve noticed again and again as we’ve read the Old Testament.
Is God with us when we succeed?
Is God angry with us when we fail?

Clearly the writers of the Old Testament understood it that way. When they were successful in battle, it was because of the actions of God. In this case, the Lord thundered a mighty voice that day and threw the Philistines into confusion.
But previously, the Israelites had been subject to the Philistines because they were sinning against God and worshipping Ba’al and Astarte and other false gods.
We may not have the Philistines camping outside our gates, so this battle imagery may not transfer into our lives as easily as some other biblical stories might. But consider the questions—is God with us when we succeed? And is God angry with us when we fail?

Let’s start with the failure question. Today we don’t tend to explicitly connect failure to God’s punishment. Or most of us don’t. But a number of televangelists blamed Hurricane Katrina on God’s judgment of the sinful New Orleans lifestyle. Last month, when the Lutheran Church was having their annual meeting in Minneapolis, a tornado went through town. Conservative Christian commentators blamed the tornado on God’s judgment against the Lutheran Church for considering giving more inclusion to gay and lesbian Christians in the church.

When you read the Old Testament, you can understand how such people justify their judgmentalism. But my problem is I’m not sure who appointed Pat Robertson as God’s spokesman. In the Old Testament, the prophets, like Samuel, were the ones to speak for God. But the office of prophet undergoes a change after John the Baptist. Once the Spirit descends upon Jesus and then, after his resurrection, it descends on the church, you don’t see prophets. There are apostles, disciples, teachers, evangelists, elders, and deacons, but the role of prophet is given to the church as a whole. It is disconcerting to me when people presume that their thoughts are God’s thoughts.
Most Christians don’t blame entire subgroups of humanity for natural disasters. But I have heard well meaning Christians say things to people that are just as questionable. A number of years ago, after a friend had a miscarriage, one of her good friends told her that if she improved her prayer life and got closer to God, she’d have a successful pregnancy.

Friends, I do not believe that woman was correct. My experience of God does not support her claim.

How about the idea, though, that God is behind our success?
Initially, this one seems easier to see. Sure, we believe that the blessings in our lives come from the God who made us. We may or may not see God’s action in our lives quite as clearly as the Israelites did when the Philistines were thrown into confusion, but consider this example.

Shortly after 9/11, stories started circulating about people who were supposed to be in the towers that morning, but weren’t. One man took his child to their first day of kindergarten and was late. Another person stopped to tie his shoe and missed the train, getting him to New York late enough that he wasn’t at his desk when the planes hit. Another person missed their flight that later crashed into the pentagon because they were stuck in traffic.

While I imagine that those people who weren’t in the towers that day did feel very thankful, I have a problem with circulating those stories as if God was looking out for those particular people.

Because we know the reality. Thousands of people died in those buildings and on those planes. Was God not looking out for them? Was God punishing them?

This punishment/reward understanding of God is something we should guard against. I believe it to be unhelpful and untrue. While it is how the Old Testament writers understood their experience of God, it is not how we have to. Because we experience God most clearly through the person of Jesus Christ.

I am not saying that Jesus made the Old Testament invalid or that God changed between the First and Second Testament.

But I am saying that because we know of Jesus of Nazareth, we can’t read the Old Testament without that knowledge. And our experience of God through Jesus is one of sacrificial love. God gave God’s very own child to the world in love.

So, where is God in our suffering, when the Philistines are at the gates?
Well, one answer is that God is suffering with us. Jesus became human, fully human, and lived and died, and succeeded and suffered. So, in all of the moments of our lives, God is present with us, and knows our pain. Because as Jesus, God suffered our pain.

We also could answer that God is re-creating and redeeming the world in both the good and the bad experiences of our lives. One of my favorite passages in Scripture is Romans chapter 8, but particularly this verse—“for we know that in all things, God is working together for good for those who love God and who are called together according to his purpose”.

This doesn’t mean that God is only present with us when we succeed. And it doesn’t mean that God causes bad things to happen as punishment. But it means that God’s redemptive powers are greater than the worst human suffering.

Listen to the rest of the 8th chapter of Romans:

What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us?
He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else?
Who will bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies.
Who is to condemn? It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.
Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
As it is written,
“For your sake we are being killed all day long;
we are accounted as sheep to be slaughtered.”
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.
For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."

The truth is, there has been suffering in each of our lives, and there will be more. And there may be days when it feels like you are being punished for no good reason. And well meaning people might even suggest ways for you to earn God’s favor.

But the truth is, we have received God’s favor. Through the unexplainable grace of God, we have received the gift of new life in Christ. It isn’t because we earned it or because God likes us more than God likes someone else.

It is because God so loved the world that God gave his only son.

So as we’re reading through these Old Testament texts, keep reading them through your knowledge of the grace we’ve received, and remember that God doesn’t cause suffering, but God is present with us in our suffering. Amen.

Dynasty

A Sermon Preached at Southminster
September 20, 2009

1 Samuel 2:26-36

In the Year of the Bible, we start in on reading the narratives of First and Second Samuel this week. Which means you can give yourselves a pat on the back for surviving Joshua and Judges! I love these books and I hope you will too. This narrative is a page turner! And I find a lot of connections between life in the text and life today whenever I read it.

In the section immediately preceding what we read this morning, Hannah brings her son, Samuel to the temple. She is one more of the barren women of the Old Testament who have prayed and prayed for children. When the Lord gives her Samuel, she offers him back to the Lord and he is raised in the temple by the Priest Eli. Hannah’s story will show up in the lectionary, so we’ll visit her story again. Don’t race past Hannah’s story as you read 1 Samuel.

Eli is the priest at Shiloh and he seems to be a decent priest, but his children are not. Remember that during the Exodus, the family of Aaron become the priests. They are from the tribe of Levi, so it is the Levites, as a clan, who fill the priestly function. They don’t have tribal lands the same way the other tribes do. Eli is in this line of inherited priesthood. And God has promised Dynasty to them. Remember back in Exodus 28, and all of that language of “Aaron and his sons shall serve the Lord….and it shall be a perpetual ordinance for him and for his descendants after him….”

Well, generations have gone by, and listen to how Eli’s sons, Aaron’s great great grandsons, are filling God’s ordinance: from earlier in 1 Sam 2, beginning with verse 12:

“Now, the sons of Eli were scoundrels; they had no regard for the Lord or for the duties of the priests to the people. When anyone offered sacrifice, the priest’s servant would come, while the meat was boiling, with a three pronged fork in his hand, and he would thrust it deep into the pan, or kettle, or cauldron, or pot; all that the fork brought up the priest would take for himself. This is what they did at Shiloh to all the Israelites who came there…”

In the tradition of corrupt officials everywhere, Eli’s sons are skimming off the top. Literally, in this case, taking the best of the meat before it has even had the chance to be offered to God.

So God expresses God’s displeasure with the sons of Eli and decides that this particular dynasty is going to come to an end.

Now, as Americans who got rid of our monarch a few hundred years ago, I think we tend to associate dynasties with other people and other places. Because anyone can grow up to be President in the US! But there are lots of dynasties that aren’t political ones. So pay attention to where the potential dynasties may be in your life.

So don’t dismiss this story as something belonging to another age or to other people.

So, we have this story of Eli and his scoundrel sons who didn’t care so much for either the Lord or for their duties to the people of the Lord. And this story is woven into the narrative about Samuel. Samuel, who was not from the tribe of Levi but from the tribe of Ephraim. Samuel, who did not have any family connections or privilege. Samuel who surely had no expectations that he would become a priest. His future was as a servant in the temple.

These books bear Samuel’s name, but in truth, they are the beginnings of the narrative of the kings of Israel. King Saul, King David. It is as if, before the crown is ever put on someone’s head, God wants us to remember that dynasties don’t always work out the way you want them too. The people, we’ll discover, will be begging for kings. And the grown man who has become priest Samuel will tell them, “you don’t know what you’re asking. This isn’t what you really want.”

And Samuel should know. Because he saw the heartbreak on his mentor Eli’s face whenever Eli thought of his scoundrel sons. Samuel was put in the unenviable position of being everything that Eli hoped and prayed his own children would be.

I think this story is also a reminder to us that while parents do bear all of the hurt and pain that result when their children are scoundrels, it isn’t always the parents fault. It certainly isn’t clear in this text that it is Eli’s fault. Eli was a good priest. He presumably taught his children how to live. He certainly told his children that they should change their evil ways. But they would not listen to the voice of their father.

There are many other similar texts in the Bible, and in our lives, that should be cautionary tales, helping us remember to be careful before assigning blame to parents for their childrens’ sins.

So, think of what it would have been like to be Samuel, growing up in that temple. You see your parents maybe a few times a year, so Eli really functions as your father. But Eli’s sons certainly don’t act like your brothers. You try to serve God faithfully, but you watch Eli’s sons stealing the best part of the offering, interfering in people’s worship. And whenever you get that look on your face, the one that makes your disgust with their behavior clear, they say to you, “sorry son of Ephraim. Too bad you weren’t born a Levite. And don’t go getting any ideas. You’ll never be priest. God has said that only Levites shall serve”.

Think just how aggravating that would be. Because they are right. They may be scoundrels, but they know their scripture. God DID say that Levites were to be the priests forever. And only Levites. There is no provision in the law for nice Benjaminites to be priests. No allowance for especially faithful Ephraimites to serve.

There it is, right there in the Bible. Only the sons of Aaron will be priests.

Perhaps that is why Eli’s sons acted the way they did. Because humans are not at our best when we think God has endorsed our positions uncritically. Perhaps mistaking God’s favor for their privilege is what leads the sons of Eli to be scoundrels.

But what does God do?

Therefore the LORD the God of Israel declares: ‘I promised that your family and the family of your ancestor should go in and out before me forever’; but now the LORD declares: ‘Far be it from me; for those who honor me I will honor, and those who despise me shall be treated with contempt.’

God is capable of changing God’s own mind.

Even if it has already been written as Scripture.

The problem for us, of course, is to figure out how to tell if God has changed God’s mind.

The people who argue that women shouldn’t be pastors, for instance, are trying to be faithful to God’s word, as they read it. Yet the Presbyterian Church, among others, determined years ago that God is still speaking to the church and that God is calling women and men to all ministries in the church.

Perhaps this text is a reminder to us to, as Gracie Allen once said, “never put a period where God has put a comma.” Because if we believe in a living God, then we should be expecting God to speak to us today. And even though the Canon of Scripture is closed—meaning there will never be a new book called, “The Gospel According to Marci” added to the New Testament—just because the Bible has already been written doesn’t mean God can’t use it to speak to us today as well. This is not a dead book but a living one.

But notice that in the text Samuel doesn’t get to be the one to decide to ignore the laws from Exodus and Leviticus. He never goes to Eli and says, “I’d like to be a priest. I don’t care what Leviticus says.”

It is, for better and for worse, not our decision.

It is God who decides.

And also notice that God didn’t remove the Scripture God was changing. Even though God made Samuel, the non-Levite, into a priest, God didn’t erase the chapters of the Torah that prescribed Levitical priests. It was still scripture then. It is still scripture today.

And the problem facing faithful Christians today is how do we know what God has decided?

I will not presume that my answer to that question is the right one. But I will say that we have a responsibility as God’s people to be listening for the answer.

William Sloane Coffin, the preacher and social activist I mentioned last week said,

"It is a mistake to look to the Bible to close a discussion; the Bible seeks to open one."

So, friends, we need to be in discussion so that we may discern what God is saying to us today. Reading the Bible this year, and building that practice, is one way we participate in the discussion. Coming together in Christian community for study, conversation, worship and fellowship is another way to participate in the discussion.

Breaking cultural practices that encourage us to surround ourselves with people with whom we agree about everything is another part of the discussion. I don’t know if you know how rare a community we have here. Some of us are conservative and some of us are liberal. We come to this place from all different walks of life. And we love each other. Let’s promise to be careful with each other, hearing each other’s thoughts, valuing others’ opinions. And let’s not be like the world around us that only sees value in conversation if it will make the other person change their mind.

Because I truly believe that is how we will know what God is saying to the church. When we truly listen to each other and each others’ experience, I trust it will be easier to discern where God is calling us.

And one last thing to note from the text today. Eli’s sons didn’t just get struck by lightening the minute the messenger from God made the declaration that they were out. It took time. Samuel had to grow up. God’s time is not our time. That isn’t an excuse to not work for change. But it is a reminder that if things don’t happen immediately, that is no reason to stop trying.

In this text God says, “those who honor me, I will honor”. In that, I hear great promise that if we humbly seek God and listen for God, we may become a part of the conversation. Amen.

No GUTS, No Glory

Judges 3 and 4

A Sermon preached at Southminster

September 13, 2009

In a not so surprising development, neither of the passages you heard read this morning from Judges ever appears in the Lectionary cycle of readings. Apparently they think these texts may not need to be preached.

And, perhaps they have a point. These texts are disgusting. Murder, violence, war, destruction. Dangerous women and left handed Benjaminites.

Yet, these texts, too, are the Word of the Lord, just as much as the Sermon on the Mount or the 10 Commandments.

What does that mean for us, as people who call this Book the Word of the Lord?

We believe the Bible to be God’s word to and for us.

All around us in our culture, people hold up the Bible as the solution to all of society’s problems. And it might be—but which chapters, exactly, are they thinking of when they say we need the Bible in the schools? Do we really want our kids reading some of these passages without parents around to help interpret?

Do we really know what we’re doing when we present Bibles to 3^rd graders? Perhaps sections of it should have a PG 13 rating?

And really, how do we make the Bible seem so boring that kids never want to pick it up? Because it is anything but boring.

What we should do is forbid our children and tell them the Bible is too violent to read.

That would get most kids I know to read it.

Listen to some of this language from our Book of Confessions about how the church has understood our relationship with Scripture through the ages.

From the Scots Confession from the 1500’s:

As we believe and confess the Scriptures of God sufficient to instruct

and make perfect the man of God, so do we affirm and avow their authority

to be from God, and not to depend on men or angels. Scots Confession 3.19

The Westminster Confession, a more modern document from the mid-1600’s says:

All things in Scripture are not alike plain in themselves, nor alike clear unto all; yet those things which are necessary to be known, believed, and observed, for salvation, are so clearly propounded and opened in some place of Scripture or other, that not only the learned, but the unlearned, in a due use of the ordinary means, may attain unto a sufficient understanding of them. Westminster Confession 6.007

Confessional language changes, over the years, however. By the time the Confession of 1967 was written, listen to how our understanding has changed:

The one sufficient revelation of God is Jesus Christ, the Word of God incarnate, to whom the Holy Spirit bears unique and authoritative witness through the Holy Scriptures, which are received and obeyed as the word of God written. Confession of 1967 9.27

And:

The Bible is to be interpreted in the light of its witness to God’s work of reconciliation in Christ. The Scriptures, given under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, are nevertheless the words of men, conditioned by the language, thought forms, and literary fashions of the places and times at which they were written. They reflect views of life, history, and the cosmos which were then current. The church, therefore, has an obligation to approach the Scriptures with literary and historical understanding. As God has spoken his word in diverse cultural situations, the church is confident that he will continue to speak through the Scriptures in a changing world and in every form of human culture. Confession of 1967 9.29

I confess I am much more comfortable with the language from 1967 than I am with Scots and Westminster. Because how, exactly, I’ve been wondering, do these stories from Judges help us “instruct and make perfect the man of God”?

And I know that for some of you, reading through these Old Testament books has been a disconcerting experience. If all you know of the Bible is what people tell you about it then reading through the lists in Numbers or these stories in Judges has been difficult. Where is “God’s Word” to you in this?

So, let’s look at these texts with new eyes. Let’s keep in the back of our minds what the Confession of 1967 tells us—both that these need to be read keeping the context in which they were written in mind and trusting that God is still speaking to the church today.

Let’s start with Ehud the left handed Benjaminite.

Isn’t it interesting that his left handedness is mentioned in the text? I am a left handed person, so I tend to notice when it is mentioned. For years, as I’m sure you know, being left handed was seen in a negative light. The word “sinister”, comes from the Latin for “left”. My aunt was left handed, but forced to become a right handed person by her teachers. So, much like women not often being named in scripture, when a left handed person gets a shout out in scripture, it is worth noting.

(Thanks to Charles who pointed out to me after worship that a left handed assassin could shake your hand with their right hand and stab you with their left.)

And our left handed Benjaminite, Ehud, is raised up by God to deliver the people from the bondage of Moab. But why were they under Moab’s rule in the first place? Because they sinned and did what was evil in the sight of the Lord. This refrain works its way through the Old Testament to explain why bad things kept happening to the tribes of Israel. Eventually the people will repent and call out to God. Deliverance is not only the big theme of Exodus. Deliverance happens again and again.

So, in our lives, when you read a text like this, think about the Deliverance in your life. There may be the big moment that you can look back to. But there may not be a big moment for you. There may be weekly deliverances that you can notice. And some of these deliverances may come in stories like this—okay, hopefully not exactly like this one, but not stories that you would ordinarily want to tell to people.

Our human tendency is to tell stories in a way that frame us as individuals and as a people, in the best light possible. George Washington, who couldn’t tell a lie, helped to give his new country an ethos of integrity.

Yet, because of a sword through the king of Moab, Israel was delivered to 80 years of peace in the land. So, perhaps reading this text can be a reminder to you to look for deliverance in the stories of your life that you aren’t so proud of. Perhaps this text can be a reminder that here, in this place, we don’t need to whitewash our lives. We can be who we are. If these stories can be in Holy Scripture, then surely we can come to church. Here we can accept ourselves for the things we’ve done and we can accept others for the things they have done. Even left handed Benjaminites.

But my favorite story from Judges is Deborah the Judge. Because she’s a woman. And a Judge—someone to whom the people would come to lead and guide them. And the judges were often more than judges—they oftentimes seemed to be prophets as well. And Deborah goes into battle alongside the men. Even better, the men won’t go into battle without her.

A few weeks ago, someone found my blog on the web and started asking me about how women have the right to be ministers. He didn’t seem to be combative, so I tried to answer his question. But I finally had to shut the conversation down because it became clear that, for him, the fact that nowhere in the Bible does it say, “women can be ministers” means that it isn’t okay for women to be ministers.

This is why I wanted all of us to undertake the Year of the Bible. Because we need to know what the Bible actually says. This commenter was correct that the Bible never actually says, “women can be ministers”. But his reasoning is faulty. It also doesn’t say explicitly that blondes can be ministers. Or that people can use computers to make comments on people’s blogs. There are lots of things the Bible does NOT tell us.

But in the story of Deborah, there are lots of things it does tell us. Women can lead the people, both in peace and in war. Women can be prophets, carrying God’s word about the success of the battle to the people.

And then we get to Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite. Note that in this story, we have not one but TWO women who are named!

Sisera, the opposing commander comes to their compound seeking rest from the battle. Jael feeds him and puts him to sleep in the tent. Then, while he’s sleeping, she uses the tools available to her, in this case a tent peg, and kills him. This is not just a subtle, “feminine” murder of poisoning or trickery. Think about the strength required for this job. And Israel received its deliverance at the hands of a woman.

The whole of scripture, when you look at the involvement of women in the life of the church, is of more value than any one verse could be. The argument I gave up trying to make on my blog in response to this gentleman’s comments is that the entirety of Scripture ought to be considered.

George Bernard Shaw once said,

“No man ever believes that the Bible means what it says: He is always convinced that it says what he means."

But think about how, for centuries, people used Scripture to tell women that they were somehow less human then men. “Eve sinned…yada yada yada” You know the story. But, clearly, they weren’t using Judges 4 to build their case.

Which brings up another reason to embark on the Year of the Bible.

William Sloan Coffin, who was a Presbyterian pastor and civil rights activist, once said, “It is a mistake to look to the Bible to close a discussion; the Bible seeks to open one.”

But the Bible can only open discussions if we’re opening the Bible. It is a conversation that needs to be read.

So, as we encounter these texts that have remained, largely, hidden and unread in the Bible, I invite you to consider why they didn’t make the lectionary or why they aren’t often quoted on those signs they hold up at football games. What is it about these particular stories that we DON’T want to hear?

And what conversation might God be starting with these stories? How might these texts force us to reassess what we assume we know about God and ourselves?

The Adult Sunday School class will be taking one Sunday a month to look at our Year of the Bible readings. The next discussion is this coming Sunday, here in the sanctuary. Even if you haven’t kept up with all of the readings, I invite you to come to the discussions. And then the next week, we’ll start discussing Jack Rogers book, “Jesus, the Bible, and Homosexuality”. This book will require us to be in conversation with Scripture and to trust that God is still speaking to the church through Scripture.

I am thankful to be on this journey with you, to be a partner with you in this conversation with God. Amen.

Fool Squad

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian Church
September 6, 2009

I Corinthians 4:6-21

I love the writings of the apostle Paul. I don’t always like how Christians use his writings, but I can’t control that. I will say that when you hear Paul used to defend strict legalism, or to keep God’s grace from people, to keep people out, that his writings are being misused. Because Paul, again and again, seeks to build up the Body of Christ. And seeks to do so by including more and more people into the Body.

And, of course, Paul wasn’t really writing for us. He didn’t know we’d be studying his letters 2,000 years after they were written. He certainly had no idea he was writing Scripture. To Paul, Scripture was the Hebrew Bible, our Old Testament. Paul was writing letters to actual people. To congregations he either had started or was going to be visiting. He was writing to address specific issues in the lives of these churches.

Your Year of the Bible readings started you out with Paul’s final letter—the Letter to the Romans. That letter was written to people he’d not yet met, and serves as an introduction of sorts to who Paul is and what Paul understands about how God is at work through Jesus Christ.

Yesterday, we began reading 1 Corinthians. And the Letter to the church in Corinth, is very different from Romans. It is an earlier letter. It is not, however, his first letter to this church, because in it, he refers to an earlier letter. (1 Cor 5:9—I wrote to you in my letter.)

Corinth was a Roman colony and an important port city on a trade route. Paul is writing to people in an urban setting, with many different religions and gods with which the people would have been familiar.

The “church” in Corinth during the time Paul was writing to them, would have met in homes, and not in separate church buildings, as we do today. He founded the church around 51 CE. And, after he left to visit another church, there was at least one other leader—Appollos.

And the people to whom Paul is writing, are, apparently, having trouble getting along. From earlier in the letter:

Now I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same purpose. (1 Cor 1:10)

All of the reasons for their divisions are unclear, but it seems as if some have decided that Apollos was a better leader than Paul. And so Paul seems to be writing them back to establish some authority. As you read the earlier chapters of this letter, Paul acknowledges that he’s not as good of a public speaker as Apollos is, but he makes it clear that isn’t the point. Both Apollos and Paul are working for something bigger than themselves. They aren’t in this so that people will follow them. They are doing this so that people will follow God! He wants them to rise above their differences and be united as the body of Christ so that God’s work can be done through them.

Chapter 4 is a continuation of the argument begun earlier in the letter that Paul has unique authority with them and that they should not just listen to what he has to say, but they should model their lives on his example.

But not on his example of wisdom, strength, or public speaking. They are to follow him in his weakness, foolishness, and lack of public acclaim.

So, even though we are just reading chapter 4 today, know that you need the context of the entire letter to allow Paul to build his argument. And remember that while Paul may not have been a good public speaker, he was a brilliant writer. He was well versed in the styles of rhetoric used in his culture. He is great at building up his argument in a way that gets people to start patting themselves on the back and then he will pull the rug out from under them, exposing the fallacies of their reasoning.

As I read over these words again and again this week, I couldn’t help but hear Paul writing these words to us today. “so that none of you will be puffed up in favor of one against another.”

I’ll likely get in trouble for wading again into politics, but I just can’t help it. Truly, seriously, I am not expecting that you should agree with me about any political beliefs. But I am appalled and dismayed that the political conversation has broken down to such a degree in our nation that we no longer even want to talk to each other.

From the news this week:

--A person in favor of healthcare reform bit off a finger of a counter-protester this week at a healthcare rally.

--Some politicians are saying they won’t even listen to President Obama’s address to the nation this week because they don’t agree with what he has to say, even before he says it.

--Parents are pulling their kids out of school rather than let them hear an address by the President of the United States.

On both sides of the political spectrum, we are reacting out of fear and anger, without really listening to what people are saying and seemingly with little regard for what is at stake.

Liz Emrich, in an editorial at Salon.com summed it up well, when writing about the kerfluffle over school children being addressed by the president:

“What we really teach our children when we tell them that they shouldn’t hear the words of their President, because he isn’t espousing the party line we personally agree with, is that our identity as Americans is somehow less important than our identity as partisans. It’s one more nail in the coffin of our national identity, our collective pride in our political system. We should be teaching our children to respect our President, even when we disagree with him. And the first step to respecting someone is listening to what they have to say.” (http://open.salon.com/blog/liz_emrich/2009/09/04/in_case_you_hadnt_noticed_hes_the_president)

I don’t know if she knows it, but Emrich is recapping Paul’s argument in First Corinthians. Whether you identify with Apollos or you identify with Paul, you have a larger obligation as a follower of Christ to come together and work together to build up the Body of Christ.

“Who sees anything different in you?”, Paul asks. Another way to translate that verse is “who makes you different from one another?”

“What do you have that you did not receive? And if you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?”

I posted a link on Facebook yesterday to the editorial I mentioned. And the comments turned into an illustration of 1 Corinthians. People started flinging around words like “liberal” and “conservative” as if they were weapons. People weren’t listening to each other’s ideas and opinions. I posted the article to call us back into conversation, yet people just kept on ranting at each other.

How did we get here?

I’m not a Pollyanna, really. I know that there are real differences of opinion out there. But don’t we still have things in common too?

And Paul wasn’t telling the Corinthians to pretend that they agree about everything. Remember that unity in Christ is not the same as uniformity.

He’s calling them to a higher purpose. And reminding them that the things that divide us—Paul, Apollos, Republicans, Democrats—are secondary issues.

“What do you have that you did not receive?” He asks them. “And if you received it, why do you boast as if it were not a gift?”

Friends, what do we have that we did not receive?

This week, as two members of our congregation have passed from this life to the next, I’ve been very mindful of the gift of life, as well as the gift of life in Christ. And as I tried to minister to you through a difficult time, you ministered to me with your kind and supportive emails, prayers, and hugs. So I’ve also been very mindful of the gift of community this week.

Not a community where we always agree with everything the others say. But a community where we love each other despite what the others say. That is why Southminster is the community it is—because we all share the gift of new life in Christ, we are able to come together as community, overcoming our differences.

That’s what Paul wants for Corinth. He wants them to see their very lives as gifts. Because when you do that, you respond in gratitude.

But to do that requires seeing things differently than the world sees. We’ll see this again and again in Paul’s letters.

The wisdom of this world will only make us fight with each other about who is right and who is wrong. The foolishness of God, however, will make us look at each other with different priorities, calling us into community, giving us the gift of true wisdom.

But imitating Paul is not easy.

Because he doesn’t tell us to be successful and well spoken and appreciated by the world.

Listen again to how they are supposed to be imitators of Paul:

"We are fools for the sake of Christ, but you are wise in Christ. We are weak, but you are strong. You are held in honor, but we in disrepute. To the present hour we are hungry and thirsty, we are poorly clothed and beaten and homeless, and we grow weary from the work of our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we speak kindly. We have become like the rubbish of the world, the dregs of all things, to this very day."

He also says, “the kingdom of God depends not on talk but on power”. Which is sort of odd, since he’s always telling people to be weak, and not strong. But I think what he’s doing is reminding them that the foolishness of the gospel is not about talk. It is about how it lives out in our lives.

What if we really were to be imitators of Paul, who is, of course, imitating Jesus?

What if, when we were slandered, we spoke kindly in response?

What if, when people reviled us, we blessed them?

Have you seen the bumper sticker, “Love your enemies—it messes with their heads”?

In some ways, that’s what Paul is calling us to do.

Because it is hard to have an argument when only one person is screaming. It is hard to escalate a situation when only one person is rising to the bait. It is hard to think that the wisdom of this world is wise when you look around through God’s eyes and see the pain it is causing us.

As we read through this letter, and the ones to come, pay attention to how Paul speaks of foolishness and wisdom. Notice how the unity of the body of Christ matters so much to him. Notice how the gift of faith that comes through Jesus Christ is supposed to transform how we live our lives.

And may we learn how to be fools for Christ.

Amen.