Destroying Dogma

a Sermon for Epiphany 5A
Text: Matthew 5:13-20

GOD of Hope and Wonder, we think we’re doing your will when we create an ethical framework for our lives, for our church, and for our society. Help us to overcome our hubris . Amen.

Liberty and Freedom
This morning’s collect used two words we love deeply: liberty and freedom. There’s something about those words, isn’t there? Liberty. Freedom. Ooh! It’s in our bones—our ethnic heritage, our social groupings, our society at-large. It’s everywhere. Maybe our brains like liberty and hearts like freedom. It does something to us. We’re seeing a living example right now in Egypt and Tunisia. We can only hope and pray that they continue to seek liberty and freedom, and avoid the comfort of authoritarianism.

But the point is that we love these words: liberty and freedom. Let’s say them together. Out loud. If you are reading this in a Barnes & Noble Café, just say it out loud, anyway! Liberty. Freedom. Liberty! Freedom! Liberty!!! Freedom!!!!

Ah! Don’t you feel better?

Our gospel, on the other hand, uses a word that doesn’t excite us the same way: Law. Well, maybe the lawyers in the room (and the Pharisees) are allowed to get excited about the word. It is their vocation, after all.

Law.

It just doesn’t have the same feel, does it? Freedom is, well, freeing…while Law feels more restrictive. In fact, we often talk about it as the opposite of freedom and liberty, but we know, deep-down, that it is essential to liberty. Our country was founded on laws; laws that enshrined and created freedom. And yet, we feel restricted by them anyway.

This gospel has Jesus answer an unspoken question about the Law: “Jesus, why do you hate it?” A more charitable and authentic question might be better phrased “Jesus, why do you keep breaking the Law? Aren’t you supposed to uphold it?” Jesus’s response is actually quite surprising. He says “I don’t hate it: I love it! I love every letter of it.”

The Law
This is an important statement because we need to step back from our 21st Century American understanding of the word "law". The Hebrew word we translate as The Law is Torah. We know this word, because it is also the name of the first five books of the Hebrew Scripture. When Jesus or the Pharisees talk about The Law, they aren’t simply talking about a legal code established centuries earlier, they are talking about these books of the Bible. They are speaking about the story of GOD’s relationship with humanity. Some Hebrew scholars encourage us to speak not of TL: The Law, but of The Way. Sound familiar?

And what Jesus seems to be dealing with are two groupings or understandings of ethical behavior:

1. Torah: The overarching sense of community and connectedness and relationship with GOD. This means the truths found in Scripture, the story, relationship, and agreed upon authority.
2. Pharisaic Law: The ethical framework that expounds on Torah. This is about relating the truth of Torah to the world and present conditions.

• Example: The Torah speaks of keeping the Sabbath day and making it Holy.
• The Pharisees began listing all of the types of things that constituted work on the Sabbath:

The Pharisees know that Jim Bob is kind of an idiot, so they believe he needs things spelled out for him. So they take the teaching and they say we need to make sure Jim Bob doesn’t do anything like “work” on the Sabbath. It talks about not going into the field, but Jim Bob makes stuff, so he shouldn't do that. He also shouldn’t cook or clean or go shopping or sell stuff or…on and on.

Jesus goes and stomps all over the Pharisaic Law, essentially saying “That isn’t Torah, that’s man’s law.”

We have a similar structure today, in the church:

1. Doctrine: The overarching law is called doctrine: This is made up of scriptural-based faith statements and mutually agreed principals.
2. Dogma: The ethical framework that is based on doctrine is called dogma. These are the localized ethics created by humans.

• Example: One doctrine is that Jesus was a human for a prescribed time in history.
• One dogma is the Roman Catholic’s ruling against the use of birth control.

We see Jesus trample on the dogmas of his day, and I think, would encourage us to do the same. But the point isn’t to be obstinate: but to direct our attention to the doctrine, The Law, The Way, Torah.

The Point
By now, you are no doubt wondering what the point is.

You are all very smart and astutely noticed that this is still Matthew 5, and comes immediately after the Beatitudes; that this is still the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount.

Now notice that Jesus is talking about “entering the Kingdom of Heaven” in last verse. This is the fourth mentioning of the Kingdom of Heaven in just 20 verses. Last week we learned that the poor of spirit and the persecuted will possess the kingdom: “Blessed are the poor of spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” And we also learned that the Kingdom is in the present—that the Children of God are blessed peacemakers.

The reason Jesus doesn’t create an ethical framework or subset of laws like the Pharisees, or give us a laundry list of dogma to obey is because we are called to live and be a certain way, not behave a certain way. We are called to love generously and indiscriminately, not prescribe who gets love. We are called to single out who needs our love most and give it to them instead of punishing them further. We are called to live in the Kingdom now, forgiving each other, loving each other.

Jesus names the least in the kingdom: the scribes and the Pharisees. When we obsess about each other's behavior—we are the least. When we demand adherence to laws we’ve made—we are the least. When we hold grudges and insult one another in the name of Jesus—we are the least in the Kingdom.

I don’t know about you, but I refuse to strive for least.

Where's the Fire?

a Sermon for Advent 3A
Text: Matthew 11:2-11

[Note: the original sermon was preached from sparse notes. What follows is a reinvisioning based on those notes.]

GOD of Hope and Wonder, you invite us into waiting and watching. Help us to see in our expectations true joy and new understanding. Amen.

John
Where’s the fire? Where’s the fire, Jesus? You promised me a fire and a cleansing of the world. You said it! So where’s the fire, Jesus?

John speaks from anger, hurt, anxiety, fear—has he wasted all this time? Has his ministry of preparing the way for this Messiah, this liberator and conqueror been in vain? Because…well…look at this guy. Jesus sure wasn’t matching John’s expectations of a liberator and a conqueror. The very word

Messiah=military leader.

And let’s speak plainly here: John is a man of action. He most certainly would do the work of GOD himself—not send his disciples instead. What kind of Messiah is this Jesus, that lets the disciples do the dirty work?

The Baby
In this season of expectation, we have the opposite expectation. Who are we expecting? A fragile baby. An innocent, innocuous baby that can’t threaten us or frighten us or challenge us or transform us. We expect the innocent pastoral image of a baby welcomed into the world by loving parents.

So John expected a powerful conqueror and received a healer.
We expect a healer and forget about the conqueror.

Jesus
After John’s people leave, Jesus turns to the crowd and asks them about John. He asks three times: “What did you go out [into the wilderness] to see?”
A prophet!
And what did you find?
A prophet!

Jesus isn’t just messing with our expectations, he is inviting us to deal with them. Because, once we see something, we are changed by it. He says that what they found was more than a prophet—a way prepared for them to follow. A road is being paved for us.

Advent is a season of waiting and watching, of expecting and seeing.

The opportunity to watch something is the opportunity to process something. To prepare ourselves for that road. It is the opportunity to be changed—and transformed forever.

Mark Bozzuti-Jones, in his Advent devotional, compares Advent to an expectant mother. That this season of waiting and anticipation is also a season of planning and dreaming and hoping; a season of cleaning and building and gathering. We are changed in the waiting.

For many of us that have had the fortune of being part of a child’s birth, it isn’t in the birth where the real transformation occurs, it is in the expectation.

Humility and the New Equality

a Sermon for Proper 26A
Text: Matthew 23:1-12

“The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses' seat,”

Jesus says. They are important. They are our leaders.

“[T]herefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach.”

They are, in other words, hypocrites.

The Jesus of this morning’s gospel is…difficult. He has gone on the offensive and verbally attacks the Pharisees and scribes. He concedes that they’re actually very good teachers, that they know what they’re talking about, but just don’t act like them. They’ve got that all wrong.

The gospel continues through the rest of this chapter as Jesus’s condemnation continues, and increases.

In verse 13, Jesus says:

“But woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you lock people out of the kingdom of heaven.”

In 17 he says:

“You blind fools! For which is greater, the gold or the sanctuary that has made the gold sacred?”

In all, He says “Woe to you” 7 times, he calls the Pharisees and scribes “hypocrites” 6 times, and “blind” 5 times: all in this one chapter.

But let’s put this in perspective. Though we are approaching Advent, the beginning of our church calendar, we are in the midst of the final days of Jesus’s life here in Matthew. Jesus has entered Jerusalem, foretold his impending death to his disciples, explained their place in all of it, and here, he has come to the Temple for his sacrifice and final teachings. As we have heard in the last few gospel lessons, as the Pharisees and scribes attempted to trap Jesus in theological exercises, Jesus trapped them. Remember especially last week’s gospel about the Greatest Commandment as Jesus argues that:

‘“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’

So Jesus, after thoroughly trouncing the authorities, turns his attention to the people, to make his own statement, and directs his ire toward the Pharisees and scribes.

When Jesus talks about phylacteries and fringes [a phylactery is a long box containing scripture—think of a fancy Bible cover], you can imagine he is talking about one of our candidates for public office, can’t you? One of those people who is always smiling and kissing babies and speaking about the “strength of the American workforce” going on about the virtues of American Exceptionalism. He or she wears a tailored suit, making sure to have a flag pin prominently displayed on the lapel.

In fact, we ask for substantive debate from them, and then bemoan when we actually get it. We are really listening for the zingers: those memorable lines.

As much as Jesus is nailing these leaders for their hypocrisy, he is revealing something about himself that troubles us here: he is passing judgment on them. We want to be open people. We fight against that voice of judgment because of what it means. We have watched the negative campaigning that has held our TVs hostage for months. We have witnessed the judgment passed by us and about us as Episcopalians, as members of the Diocese of Western Michigan, and as the people of St. David’s. Who is Jesus, then, to pass judgment? How can we learn to love all of our neighbors if we are allowed to judge some of them? Who am I, standing in the pulpit, to pass judgment? What kind of example is Jesus giving us and what kind of example are our candidates for elected office giving us?

Jesus reveals to us in the gospel that judgment is a part of love. Recognizing difference and relationship is central to our ability to love those around us. Recognizing when someone you love is doing something wrong gives you the chance to help them. This is why the previous verses about the Great Commandment are so essential to this gospel: loving one’s neighbor is a part of loving God. These two are essentially connected. Loving your neighbor, the hypocrite, involves pointing out his/her hypocrisy. Jesus uses judgment to not only reveal the problem with the Jewish authorities (their hypocrisy) but also to reveal the true teaching (humility). See, it isn’t really about who the Pharisees and scribes are, but about who they are not. They are not humble. They see themselves as special and demand that others see them that way too.

For Jesus, the teaching is really directed at the crowd. A visual example of the way not to act. He tells the people not to use titles like rabbi and father. The instruction, that these are God’s titles highlights what they are not: our titles. You may be a mother or father because you gave birth to a baby, and yes, you are her mother or father. Jesus isn’t calling for the stripping of such a title from you. But He is talking about position, power over or dominance of another. We, as children of God, are equals; it is only God that has a position of power over us. We are all saints. This is a radical concept here: true equality.

When Jesus says “All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be exalted” he is telling his disciples to do more than simply “be nice” to people: to be humble before them. The disciples, as leaders, must serve their followers.

For most of us, that seems pretty messed up. Some of us like our “phylacteries broad and [our] fringes long”. Some of us exercise the only authority we have in life when we come to church. Some of us only know how to lead through dominating others. But Jesus calls us to something different.

We are currently living in a moment in which we have no choice but to re-examine our understanding of leadership. All leadership: in the church; in our city, state, and country; in our global communion. We have the chance to look at how we lead and at our motivations. We can look at our priorities and our vision for the future. Jesus reveals the style of leadership (humility) in our lesson today, but he also reveals the why: preparing the Kingdom of God. That’s why we are listed among the saints. It is our right relationship with each other that brings closer that right relationship with God (and vice versa).

As you go into this week, take time to reflect about the Kingdom as you prepare to vote. Reflect also on what God is calling you to do in the life and ministry of St. David’s. Through planned giving and outreach to the powerless: here and abroad. Through food baskets and mosquito nets.

Jesus reveals the Kingdom as a great reversal of fortunes. For virtually every one of us in North America, that means that we are all called to serve others. May God reveal to you your place in this radical equality.

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NOTE: I chose not to move All Saints' readings to Sunday, as this text was so good! That, and it made much more sense in the context of our lectionary!

Aren’t we ready already?

Text: Matthew 16:21-28

[Previously on Matthew:

Jesus: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”

Disciples: “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one

of the prophets.”

Jesus: “But who do you say that I am?”

Peter: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

Jesus: “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.”

And now the conclusion:] [1]

Remember last week, we had this thrilling moment where Peter “gets” who Jesus is. He calls him “the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” It is a highpoint of the story so far and serves to mark it off as significant. God, the Great Mystery, has revealed Jesus’s identity to Peter. But don’t think that these words of congratulations serve as a true conclusion. As Stanley Hauerwas puts it: “Simon’s recognition of Jesus changes who Simon is.” [2] It is this reason that Jesus gives Peter a new name, changing it from Simon to Peter, and it is this reason that he gives him a new position: not one of superiority but one of preserving the church’s gifts.

Hauerwas continues:

“By making Peter the rock on which the church will be built, Jesus indicates that the church will need to be so built because hell itself will try to destroy what Jesus has established.

It is not Peter’s task to make the church safe and secure or to try to insure its existence. Rather, it is Peter’s task to keep the church true to its mission, which is to witness to the Messiah.” [3]

Listen again to the opening words of this morning’s gospel: “Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem”. Jesus reveals to his disciples that 1) he must go to Jerusalem, 2) undergo great suffering, 3) be killed, and 4) be raised. The new man named Peter, with his rockish need to protect the mission not only attempts to stop this from happening, but he actually takes Jesus aside and rebukes him. This is the proof I promised last week for how Peter could “get it” without understanding it. Jesus’s response, seconds after commending Peter, after heaping on the praise, is to call Peter “Satan” and “a stumbling block to me”!

We all know that Peter is trying to protect Jesus. We all know that he doesn’t think that Jesus is ready to die. He doesn’t think that the disciples are ready to die. And he knows that he isn’t ready to die.

We have a lot of examples for those times in which we aren’t ready. Those examples are truly everywhere, aren’t they? This time last year the media was discussing whether or not we were “ready” for a woman president or a black president. There are currently 21 female heads of state, including three monarchs (Denmark, The Netherlands and the United Kingdom), eight prime ministers (Germany, Haiti, New Zealand, Moldova, Mozambique, The Netherlands Antilles, Ukraine and The Åland Islands) and seven presidents (Argentina, Chile, Finland, India, Ireland, Liberia and The Philippines). I should hope that we’re ready.

We also worry that we aren’t ready for disasters. Hurricanes Katrina and Rita didn’t paint a picture of readiness. But if we dig a little deeper, we can see that for decades, Louisiana had called for improvements to the levees. Katrina’s effect on New Orleans doesn’t represent a lack of readiness, but of federal short-sightedness and negligence. Better examples are of the way Kansans deal with tornados, Californians deal with earthquakes, and yes, Floridians deal with hurricanes. These people deal with their expectations and display a relative readiness for what they know is coming.

So why is it that we in the church sit in an active state of unreadiness? We evolve at a snail’s pace, dealing with small issues as if they are catastrophic (You picked what color? We sang that hymn?)—leaving us in a catatonic state when big issues arrive. For some, the solution is to stick fingers in the ears and sing “La la la la!” For others, the solution is to collect an unscientific poll with the predictable “We hate change” result. Or we give in rather than rock the boat.

No, for the most part, we aren’t ready to die, either.

But Jesus gives us real hope:

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?”

He’s not mincing his words here. Taken with the new identity of Peter, we can see how Jesus calls not just his disciples, but the church to act. To take up its cross, following Jesus to death in Jerusalem. Because this is a life-and-death issue, there isn’t time to get ready.

Jesus rebukes Peter because Peter is “setting [his] mind not on divine things but on human things”: demonstrating the polar opposite of what got him praise last week. He is worried about preserving the physical life of the Messiah, the son of the Living God so that this earthly king can rule the Kingdom of God on earth. Just like the Pharisees and Sadducees rebuked earlier, Peter is actually trying to preserve the status quo, the very world as he knows it; turning his mind to the revelation of a heavenly king on earth, Peter posits that this new earthly king will soon be ready to wage earthly war. In this way, Peter is obstructing the Kingdom of God from coming. A Kingdom with a spiritual king—not a militaristic one.

Remember the clue from last week? Making reference to the Son of Man, or Son of Humanity, is our cue that Jesus is talking about the Kingdom of God. Jesus brings it up again here to demonstrate that this is his primary interest. It is establishing the church as a means of bringing the Kingdom closer. That Peter couldn’t quite comprehend the Kingdom is no surprise: look at how easily we avoid the Kingdom. For Jesus, the issue has everything to do with death. Everything to do with our fear of death, the violence that can cause death, and how humanity uses the fear of death to manipulate others. By taking up our crosses, not just any crosses, but THE cross, Jesus’s cross, we are freed from death, the fear of death, the violence of death, and the manipulation of death because it is the Kingdom that matters. It is God that matters.

We fear death. This doesn’t surprise any of us. Death is scary. And the disciples surely felt that they didn’t sign up for that. But they followed him all the way to Jerusalem. It is there that they abandoned him. They walked up to the edge, but couldn’t do it. Fear prevented them. Some of the great stories in Acts and in traditions tell of how the disciples, decades later, accepted death, finally getting what Jesus had been saying years earlier. Their example is truly comforting, because this stuff is scary.

But Jesus promises us resurrection after 1) Jerusalem, 2) punishment, and 3) death. Our fear for our lives need not be predicated on our survival. This is Jesus’s great offering. That we can gather up God’s strength and become a people whose ministry is to bring the Kingdom closer is not just an awesome responsibility, but an awesome responsibility. Jesus was putting the church in the hands of fisher-men and -women who showed not just great devotion, but great willingness to give up on the safety and security of the world around them. How could that message not resonate with us? How dare we not hear that message in the midst of our own culture, with our jobs and our childcare and our responsibilities and our families and our sports and music and reading and gardening and on!

We are church not because we are friends or we like to dress up or we like to give to charitable causes: these things are a part of us: but we are church because we have accepted that responsibility. We, like Peter, have answered Jesus’s question by calling him “the Messiah, son of the Living God” and because we believe that Jesus’s challenge for us is worthy. The grace revealed in this gospel is that we can deny ourselves, take up the cross, and follow Jesus. That we have nothing to fear in death. As Jesus often told his disciples, “Do not be afraid.”

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[1] For the 9:30 service only.

[2] Hauerwas, Stanley. Matthew. (Brazos Press: Grand Rapids, 2006) p. 150.

[3] Ibid.