Sermon

Sermon

January 21, 2018: Rev. Anna Fulmer

Ruth is one of my favorite books of the Bible. It is a short-story detailing the flight of Ruth and her mother-in-law, Naomi. We find our Scripture lesson today in the middle of the narrative. Prior to this, there is a famine in Israel. Naomi and her family are forced to move to Moab and her sons marry Moabite women. This had to have been a life or death situation for Naomi and her family to leave their land, their home, Israel. Their lives and livelihoods are at stake. They must have found some security in Moab, since Mahon and Chilion (their names mean death and disease) marry. Unfortunately Naomi’s husband and Death and Disease die leaving Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah widows. Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah are poor—they do not have husbands to advocate for them, which is a death sentence in this time and place. They are vulnerable. Not only do they lack material wealth—food and shelter, they have relational poverty—they have no one to advocate for them. Naomi suggests that her daughters-in-laws go back to their parents, since she is going back to Judah, to Bethlehem. Names matter in Ruth—did you know Bethlehem literally means, house of bread? In a foreign land, Naomi does not have much chance for survival; at least in her homeland, she might have neighbors, friends, and distant relatives who can care for her. Orpah (whose name means back-of-neck) leaves, but Ruth, whose name means friend or companion “clung to her” (Ruth 1:14). She vows to stay with Naomi. The two go to Bethlehem. Here, Ruth is trying her hardest to survive. Let’s listen now.

NRSV Translation of Ruth 2:1-13

Who is our neighbor? The neighbor in this passage, is Ruth. But Ruth is a Moabite. Ruth is not just called Ruth—every time the narrator mentions Ruth, Ruth is called, “Ruth the Moabite.” Israel and Moab were enemies. In Genesis 19:30-38, the Moabites and Ammonites come from the offspring of Lot having relations with his daughter. These countries according to ancient Israel, come from incest and promiscuity. The Moabites and Ammonites are also not allowed to go into the Temple because they did not provide food during Exile (Deut. 23:3-6). Deuteronomy 23:6 states that “You shall never promote their welfare or their prosperity as long as you live.” (v. 6), and here is an entire book about a Moabite caring for an Israelite (and how an Israelite, Boaz, cares for a Moabite). Needless to say, the fact that Ruth was a Moabite was a scandal for ancient Israelite listeners.

It is not even clear if Ruth legally (or Biblically) would have had any right to glean (916). Gleaning is a practice set up in the laws in Deuteronomy and Leviticus for the poor, widows, and resident aliens. But Ruth isn’t just any foreigner; she is a Moabite. She is an enemy.

Who is our neighbor? In ancient Israel, everyone farmed. In order to survive, you had to own land. If you didn’t own land, you started to be on the margins of the economic system. So people, when they were harvesting their crops are commanded to leave some for the poor and foreigners to glean. Gleaning was tough work, dangerous work. Usually, you knew the person whose land you were gleaning on and they knew you. They were your neighbors. But here, Ruth does not know Boaz, the man’s land she is on. Luckily, he shows her kindness. Even here, you can see that Ruth is in danger. Boaz advises her to keep to his fields and to cling to his young women. He tells the men not to bother her. Boaz realizes Ruth has put herself in an incredibly dangerous situation. Why does she do it? I think she does, because she knows that Naomi could not survive on her own. She sacrifices her well-being for the sake of another, an Israelite, her mother-in-law. Boaz notices too—Ruth is a woman of valor, of courage, kindness, and goodness and a Moabite. Boaz looks beyond Ruth’s nationality and sees the truth.

Who is our neighbor? Ruth not only has economic poverty, but relational poverty: she is an outsider as a woman, a widow, a poor person, and a Moabite. “A foreigner from a disliked ethnic group would be even more likely to be victimized.”[1] Ruth’s material poverty, immigrant status, and relational status put her life at stake. Why did she go with Naomi when she knew what she could face? She goes because she knows that her mother-in-law’s life is at stake. She knows that Naomi doesn’t have a real chance without her. Loyalty, sacrifice, and redemption are at the heart of this story.

Who is our neighbor? Do we even know our neighbors? Do we know those who are living on the margins? It is so easy when we see someone living on the margins to just give them a few dollars and feel like we have done our job. It is much much harder to be in relationship with someone and journey with them through the difficult times. Boaz could have stayed in his home and let his reapers do their work, proud that he allowed gleaners on his land, but he goes out into his fields. He gets to know Ruth. He knows her story. He knows the sacrifice that she has made to care for Naomi. He does not just follow the Hebrew law—he goes above and beyond the law to care for Ruth and Naomi. He does that because he gets to know Ruth, and she is able to know him.

We live in a society that quarantines us by age, race, ability, the list goes on. We sometimes even set-up our lives to be separated from those who are different than us. Church is often one of the only times and places where generations collide—not just because we are family. Ruth challenges us to get out of our comfort zones to meet our neighbors. It is a risky move to go into “enemy territory”—but it is through knowing our neighbors in all of our diversity that redemption and change happens.

Eventually, Ruth and Naomi create a risky plan for Ruth to approach Boaz at the threshing floor. She asks, “spread your cloak over your servant, for you are next-of-kin” (3:9). Boaz does. Ruth and Boaz marry. Ruth and Boaz have a child. We learn that David is a descendant of Ruth and Boaz. It might seem like this is simply a “rags to riches” story, but we know the fuller story. The risk, hardship, the hunger, the fear, the grief, the gleaning, that is transformed. It should challenge us. Because we are not a Moabite in a foreign land. We are Israelites, the dominant group, and how we treat our neighbors, the foreigner matters—maybe we are Naomi in this story. If we are Naomi, then we are dependent on that Moabite for survival and redemption. Not only that, but that Moabite, Ruth is the great, great, great, many many great grandmother of Jesus—our redemption, the world’s redemption hinges on Ruth.

You might be wondering, so where is God is this? God is rarely mentioned. Instead we must infer where God is—God is in the chance meeting of Ruth and Boaz. God is in the immigrant’s heart who refuses to leave a grieving mother and wife behind. God is in the harrowing journey to Israel, the courage of Ruth to go and glean, the kindness and openness of Boaz. God is in the risky plan that Ruth and Naomi create; God is in the redemption, in the child that is born—in grief that becomes joy. Often we have to infer where God is in our own lives. Maybe this story can help open that space up for you. God is in each and every one of our neighbors. Let us go out and look for that light, that love today. Amen.

[1] Sakenfeld, 43.

Scripture

NRSV Translation of Ruth 2:1-13

Now Naomi had a kinsman on her husband’s side, a prominent rich man, of the family of Elimelech, whose name was Boaz. And Ruth (companion or friend) the Moabite said to Naomi, “Let me go to the field and glean among the ears of grain, behind someone in whose sight I may find favor.” She said to her, “Go, my daughter.” So she went. She came and gleaned in the field behind the reapers. As it happened, she came to the part of the field belonging to Boaz, who was of the family of Elimelech. Just then Boaz came from Bethlehem (house of bread). He said to the reapers, “The Lord be with you.” They answered, “The Lord bless you.” Then Boaz said to his servant who was in charge of the reapers, “To whom does this young woman belong?” The servant who was in charge of the reapers answered, “She is the Moabite who came back with Naomi from the country of Moab. She said, ‘Please, let me glean and gather among the sheaves behind the reapers.’ So she came, and she has been on her feet from early this morning until now, without resting even for a moment.”

Then Boaz said to Ruth, “Now listen, my daughter, do not go to glean in another field or leave this one, but keep close to my young women. Keep your eyes on the field that is being reaped, and follow behind them. I have ordered the youth men not to bother you. If you get thirsty, go to the vessels and drink from what the young men have drawn.” Then she fell prostrate, with her face to the ground and said to him, “Why have I found favor in your sight, that you should take notice of me, when I am a foreigner?” But Boaz answered her, “All that you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband has been fully told me, and how you left your father and mother and your native land and came to a people that you did not know before. May the Lord reward you for your deeds, and may you have a full reward from the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come for refuge!” Then she said, “May I continue to find favor in your sight, my lord, for you have comforted me and spoken kindly to your servant, even though I am not one of your servants.

This is the Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

Sermon

January 14, 2018:  Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

This week I decided to revisit some old sermons preached by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in the midst of the Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955 and 1956. In one of those sermons, Dr. King preached on the passage from the book of Romans when the Apostle Paul instructs the church “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God.” It was on a different scripture lesson and in a different day and age, but that sermon has much to say about the ethical vision of the prophet Micah and about our world today. Dr. King began by reflecting on this command:

“’Do not be conformed’ is difficult advice in a generation when crowd pressures have unconsciously conditioned our minds and feet to move to the rhythmic drumbeat of the status quo.”[i]

This weekend we find ourselves surrounded by memories and reflections and the importance of Dr. King. And here in Mobile, many have sought to honor his legacy by a weekend full of service and unity within our community. There was the community cleanup day yesterday organized all around town. There’s the First Light marathon today supporting L’Arche and churches each walking a mile in the marathon as a show of unity. There’s the community interfaith worship service tomorrow where we will gather with neighbors in a time of prayer and praise. And of course there are many other events as well, marches, rallies, meals, and celebrations. As impressive as all of this is, the truly powerful part is that this year, for the first time, the leaders of all these organizations have been working together for months to coordinate and plan together. Deep unity behind the scenes leads to visible unity throughout the weekend. I really hope that the world is watching what we are doing in Mobile this weekend.

Anna and I were honored to be part of the planning process for this weekend of events, and when our group met over a year ago we considered what guiding theme would connect the dots of all these different and diverse activities together. What quickly emerged was the final verse of our scripture lesson this morning from Micah 6:8. “Do Justice, Love Kindness, Walk Humbly with your God.”

“Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with your God!” There’s a decent chance that some of you have heard that scripture passage before. It’s a favorite verse that many have loved throughout the years for it so clearly and succinctly articulates a biblical ethic that is woven throughout the teachings of the prophetic books. It’s a call to action that is at the same time strongly communal and deeply personal, all about justice in the world around us and relationship with God in our hearts and minds.

These two arenas truly are woven together, the inward life of faith and the outward work for justice. As Dr. King said in that old sermon from the 50’s:

“Only through an inner spiritual transformation do we gain the strength to fight vigorously the evils of the world in a humble and loving spirit.”ⁱ

Yes, many of us know and love Micah 6:8. But, what we may not always remember is that this one verse doesn’t just drop out of the sky as a slogan or cliché from on high. This famous verse comes within a particular historical context in the life of the kingdom of Judah and a literary context inside the poetic book of Micah.

Over 700 years before the birth of Christ, the people of God were worried about the threat of the Assyrian Empire breathing down their neck. Faced with this national crisis, the people were looking for answers and the prophet Micah jumps into the fray with his interpretation of why the kingdom is teetering on the brink of destruction. He says it is because of their unjust “economic practices that exploit the vulnerable and violate the will of God for economic justice” in the community.[ii] Those days of the 8^th Century BC were full of greedy land grabbing practice; women, children, and those who could not work being evicted from their homes; unethical political leaders; building projects that exploited cheep labor at the cost of human lives; court systems infected with bribery. It was a broken system, a stacked deck, all designed so the rich could get richer and the poor could get poor.

Dr. King saw a similar connection in his day between international crisis and injustice in our local communities. He spoke of his particular “hour in history” saying:

“Our planet teeters on the brink of atomic annihilation; dangerous passions of pride, hatred, and selfishness are enthroned in our lives; and men worship before the false gods of nationalism and materialism.” ⁱ

It is into such a broken “hour of history” that the prophet Micah emerges with is message. As we heard in our scripture reading, the prophetic places his audience in an imagined courtroom scene in which the people of God are called to testify in a legal case, a lawsuit, that God has filed against them. They are harshly critiqued because they have forgotten who they are, where they came from, how they are supposed to act, and ultimately, whom they belong to. God says, don’t you remember how I freed you from slavery and provided for you in the wilderness. Don’t you remember that you were once the poor, the oppressed, the immigrant without a homeland. Yet it was I, God, who set your free and set you on the right path. Now in your forgetfulness, you have become the oppressor, you have become the enslaver, you have evicted the poor and the stranger from lands that were not yours to begin with.

The trial continues as the people of God take the stand and in response to God’s testimony against them they ask what they must do to make things right? How can we justify ourselves? What does God demand of us? Sacrifices of animals, of produce, even giving our children to the service of the Lord. Their mind jumps quickly to these outward religious practices but for all they wrong reasons. They have no interest in praising their creator, they are only interested in saving their own skin, keeping their power, preserving the status quo.

Throughout his ministry, Dr. King was pained by the ways that similar patterns are repeated in our day and age—injustice hiding behind religious justification. He said:

“Nowhere is the tragic tendency to conform more evident than in the church, an institution which has often served to crystallize, conserve, and even bless the patterns of majority opinion. The [church’s sanction] of slavery, racial segregation, war, and economic exploitation is a testimony to the fact that the church has hearkened more to the authority of the world than to the authority of God…called to combat social evils, it has remained silent behind stained-glass windows.” ⁱ

In response to the empty shell of religiosity, in reaction to the self-serving hypocritical questions of the people, Micah says, No! No, can’t buy God’s favor or hide behind your shallow theology. You want to know what God is like you want to “discern the will of God,” to know what God desires and requires of you? It’s so simple and so so hard: “Do justice—don’t just talk about it, roll up your sleeves to fix what is broken, make real sacrifices of your time and energy, do it, do justice. And love kindness—love people who are different than you, show mercy to your opponents and those you can’t stand, love your enemies, love with kindness. And walk humbly with your God, walk the journey of faith, progress down the wildness roads, listen to the voice of your Creator, Sustainer, Redeemer, calling you to move, to walk, to march to a different drumbeat than that of the world around you.

This call to live by justice, love, humility, and faith is very different than the call to conform to systems of greed and power that surround us today. In the heart of that sermon preached to a church that was leading bus boycott, Dr. King reflected on the power of Jesus Christ’s call to us to new ways of life. He said,

“When an affluent society would coax us to believe that happiness consists in the size of our automobile, the impressiveness of our houses, and the expensiveness of our cloths, Jesus reminds us, “A man’s life does not consist in the abundance of things which he possesses. When we refuse to suffer for righteousness and choose to follow the path of comfort rather than conviction, we hear Jesus say, “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” When in our spiritual pride we boast of having reached the peak of moral excellence, Jesus warns, “the tax collectors and prostitutes will get into the kingdom of God before you.” When we, through compassionless detachment and arrogant individualism, fail to respond to the needs of the underprivileged, the Master says, “Whatever you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” Everywhere and at all times, the love and ethic of Jesus is a radiant light revealing the ugliness of our stale conformity.” ⁱ

Does Micah’s call to faithful justice and against empty religious sentimentality still speak to our world today? Does Dr. King’s sermon in Montgomery six decades ago still challenge us to examine our conformity to the broken systems we live in? Does God’s requirement to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly still matter? Have we outgrown these demands and progressed beyond these prophetic reminders?

Friends, look around our suffering world, around our divided country, around our segregated neighborhoods, around our sinful lives. What do you see? Our society still acts as if some people’s rights matter more than others, some people’s homes matter more than others, some people’s lives matter more than others. We still desperately need the witness of prophets, both ancient and modern, to call us back to God’s vision of justice, love, kindness, and humility. We still need these prophets to inspire us to put these truths to action so that the Dream might become a reality.

Dr. King concluded his sermon with a pair of questions that echo the choice Micah puts before us and which we must answer ever generation and every day of our lives:

“We must make a choice. Will we continue to march to the drumbeat of conformity and respectability, or will we, listening to the beat of a more distant drum, move to its echoing sounds? Will we march only to the music of time, or will we, risking criticism and abuse, march to the soul-saving music of eternity?” ⁱ

Friends, to which drumbeat will we march? Will we march in the light of God?

To God alone be the glory.

Closing Hymn:  “We Are Marching in the Light of God”   w/Bryan Ayers (drum)

“…there are some things in our world to which [people] of goodwill must be maladjusted. I confess that I never intend to become adjusted to the evils of segregation and the crippling effects of discrimination, to the moral degeneracy of religious bigotry and the corroding effects of narrow sectarianism, to economic conditions that deprive [people] of work and food, and to the insanities of militarism and the self-defeating effects of physical violence.” ⁱ

[i] Martin Luther King, Jr., “Transformed Nonconformist” sermon in Strength to Love, 8-15.

[ii] Walter Brueggemann, Introduction to the Old Testament,

Scripture

Micah 6: 1-8

Hear what the Lord says:

Rise, plead your case before the mountains, and let the hills hear your voice.
² Hear, you mountains, the controversy of the Lord, and you enduring foundations of the earth;
for the Lord has a controversy with his people, and he will contend with Israel.

³ ‘O my people, what have I done to you? In what have I wearied you? Answer me!
⁴ For I brought you up from the land of Egypt, and redeemed you from the house of slavery;
and I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam…that you may know the saving acts of the Lord.’ 

⁶ ‘With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come before him with burnt-offerings, with calves a year old?
⁷ Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, with tens of thousands of rivers of oil?
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?’ 

⁸ He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

Sermon

January 7, 2018: Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

You’ve heard it before, when it comes to real estate there are three things that matter: location, location, location. The same could be said for our scripture lesson this morning. At first this may seem like a simple, straightforward story about John the Baptist’s preaching and Jesus’ baptism. It shows us that some folks were expecting Jesus’ arrival and that from the beginning of his ministry he was “ordained” by the Holy Spirit. Those are important truths, but when we pay attention to some of the details in the text, especially as they relate to locations, it opens up for us even more truth and deeper meanings.

First, of all, where this story takes place matters. John the Baptist is in the wilderness, in no-man’s land, the middle of nowhere. And yet, that description of wilderness is somewhere—somewhere that mattered a great deal to the history of Israel throughout the centuries. The wilderness was a place of great importance. Long before, over 1,200 years before Christ’s birth, the Hebrew people had been slaves in Egypt. They in a series of events that would forever change the world, God set them free from their taskmasters. They fled through the waters of the Red Sea and then wandered as nomads for 40 years in the wilderness…in the Wilderness. For the Ancient Jewish community, the wilderness was the birthplace of their national identity and their covenant relationship with God. The wilderness is where they received the 10 Commandments and the other laws that would shape their ethical worldview. The wilderness is where they ate manna from heaven and learned to trust in God’s providence. The wilderness is where they first experienced the gift of Sabbath, the rituals of Passover, the teaching of Moses, and the hope of a Promised Land. In other words, when John the Baptist goes out to the Wilderness to preach he steps into the old old story to proclaim a new word about what God is up to.

Next, notice the locations that his audience comes from. They travel out into the wilderness to hear him, but they come from “the whole Judean countryside” and from “all the people of Jerusalem.” That’s like saying they come from the backwoods and the halls of power. From the sticks and from the capital city. They come from rural farmlands and the urban centers. We so often divide those locals, those sectors of our society in our minds, especially around election times. And yet, in our story today, they both come. Masses of people leave their homes in both locations to go out and hear what John has to say.

And what he says, it turns out, is some pretty powerful, life-changing stuff. He is dressed up like one of the ancient prophets from Israel’s past, channeling their spirit of dynamic calls to action, speaking truth to power, calling for repentance, for turning around what is backwards and misdirected in our own lives and in our social structures as well. He was preaching about forgiveness of sins, about God’s grace. And it sure seems like his message hit home because crowds respond: Yes! Yes we need to confess where we have failed, yes we need to repent of our hard hearts and unjust systems. Yes we need to feel God’s forgiveness and the gift of new life. Yes! They cry, what must we do. And John leads them to the water, the baptismal water, the water of the Jordan River. Yet again, this location matters. The Jordan River, where John does his baptizing, is a place of memory and transition. Centuries before, the children of those freed slaves finished their 40 years of wilderness wandering and they crossed the waters of the Jordan river into the Promised land, where they would make their home as the people of Israel. The Jordan River was the place where God’s promises became a reality. Where the homeless nomads found a home. And now, John invites his audience, invites us, to dip our toes into the flowing water of this holy memory, to touch the current of God’s covenant with our outstretched hand. To feel on our forehead the wetness of God’s claim on our whole lives through baptism.

We do not wade into this river alone, for it is here in these waters of baptism that we are gathered together into the family faith—some of us baptized before we ever knew about God’s love, some of us in response to experiencing the power of grace in our lives. Here in these waters we are bound together and bound to God as our beginning and end. As we read in our story today, it is here in these waters that we meet the promised one, Christ who has also come to be baptized.//

Baptism Stories:

-Ezra Spaulding last week pulling Anna’s hair.

-Wilson spitting up in front of the congregation.

These imperfect moments and memories serve a role to remind us of God’s perfect love, which is all that truly matters in these waters.

The gospel of Mark is an older and a much briefer book than the other three gospels. Throughout Mark there is one lingering set of questions: Who is this Jesus, really? And what has he come to do? There are many details or entire stories that Mark does not record, including any account of Jesus’ birth. Instead, this gospel begins to answer these questions of identity and action here with his baptism. Jesus coming to the Jordan to be baptized by John is the dramatic introduction to his presence and his purpose. It is the shot heard round the creation. For while Jesus is still dripping wet from his wilderness washing, the heavens are torn apart and the Spirit of God descends upon him. And then, the climax, a voice from heaven reveals Jesus’s true identity proclaiming, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

But here’s the thing, though these words are spoken to Jesus directly, we hear them too. This love between God and Jesus catches us up in its current. We too go through our lives asking: Who am I, really? And what am I here to do? In the waters of baptism– with him–dripping with the same grace and love of God, we hear God call each and every one of us by name and say, “You are my beloved Child.” We too receive the gift of the Holy Spirit, poured out so freely upon us, reassuring us in darkest of times, and empowering us to go out and do the work of ministry that God calls us each to do.

From those waters of baptism, Jesus leaves the Jordan, that particular location and goes out to the rest of the world to begin his ministry. So too do all the others in the crowd. All the rest of us. They went back to their locations as well, back to the Judean countryside and back to the city of Jerusalem. Back to the sticks and back to the halls of power, back to work, back to family, back to the broken systems and the lonely neighbors, back to places of poverty and places of greed, back to communities hungry for justice and leaders gorging themselves on power, back to their own personal anxieties, doubts, insecurities, and back to all the voices that have told them that they aren’t enough, that they will never be enough. They go back, dripping wet from their wilderness washing, claimed as God’s beloved children, the family of faith running throughout the ages. The go back with the reminder that God’s grace is all-sufficient, all they need to follow their true calling in life. They go back, we go back, empowered to turn around whatever is twisted in our world in our lives. We go back ordained by the Holy Spirit to follow the one who has come to keep and fulfill God’s promises and to usher in the kingdom of God here on earth as it is in heaven.

Scripture

Mark 1: 4-11

John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Sermon

December 10, 2017:  Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

The year was 733 B.C. Citizens in ancient Jerusalem, the capital of the kingdom of Judah, are asking questions: Is this it? Is this what it all comes down to? Have all of our hopes crashed and failed? Is this all that God has in store for us? Really?

The was a crisis in national leadership. Their king had failed them. In those days, a major war was being fought between rival kingdoms vying for power. There were complicated alliances and treaties. And in the midst of this war, the king of Judah, the descendent from David’s royal line had crumbled in fear. Rather than standing firm and trusting in God, king Ahaz had made a backroom deal with the great foreign superpower, the Assyrian Empire. To save his own skin, stay in power, and protect his boarders at the expense of his neighbors, Ahaz sold his kingdom to the Assyrians. He bowed his knee and promised to serve them as his vassal. He would live out his days as a pitiful puppet king, propped up by a foreign power.

In the face of this crisis of leadership, the prophet Isaiah, paints a painful picture, which functions like a political cartoon. The royal household, the dynasty of King David, son of Jesse, which has ruled in Jerusalem for centuries is portrayed like a great tree, a massive royal oak. But with the cowardice of Ahaz (and a bunch of bad kings before him) that great tree has been cut down. It has fallen. Now, all that is left is a stump. A dead remnant in the group. It’s a pretty powerful metaphor for the loss of something great, for disappointment, for shattered dreams.

Think of what effect that same metaphor would have today. Imagine opening the paper and finding a pollical cartoon with a great tree that says “America” along it’s wide trunk. And in the cartoon the tree has just been cut down. All that is left is the stump. A painful memory of former life. Leaning against the stump is an ax, the instrument of the felling. And what might be written on that ax today? What is it that is cutting down our hopes and dreams today? What is leaving stumps where great oaks once stood? Greed? Ignorance? Intolerance? Anger? Divisive political parties? Social Media algorithms? Rampant consumerism? Perhaps, perhaps that ax today might bear the same name as it did in Isaiah’s day: Fear. Fear is what kills hope, topples centuries of growth.

Not only at the national level but in our own lives today—we have our stumps. Our places of disappointment and loss, of shattered dreams and thoughts of what cold have been, what might have been. So too in our own lives does fear cut down what we had hoped for.

Now, as powerful and biting as Isaiah’s political cartoon might be, its just the beginning. The metaphor of the stump, sets up the surprise that is to come. For out of this image of death and decay grows something new. A tiny, green shoot of a plant, with a fragile stem and only a few small leaves is breaking forth into the world. New life, growing where we least expect it. And this new shoot, this new growth out of the Royal line of David will not be anything like the failed kings of ancient Israel or the leaders that disappoint us today. This one, this ruler who is to come, will be anointed with “the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and fear of the Lord.”

Every ruler, king, politician, claims to be wise and mighty, but the wisdom and might of God look very different than the ways of the world around us…and they certainly won’t get you elected. According to Isaiah, the might of God is shown in how the poor are cared for, how the weak are lifted up, how the meek are honored. The wisdom of God sees what is really happening, its sees through the mirage of power and wealth, it sees the wickedness and brokenness in our systems and structures that are all about greed and privilege, that are ultimately rooted in fear. Instead, this new one, this shoot of Jesse breaks forth quietly into the world to turn the everything upside down.

So, let’s see, in the midst of a time of war, Isaiah prophecies about a fragile young birth that will come when and where we least expect it. And this one who is coming will be a ruler, a king in David’s line, who sees people as they really are, who particularly cars for the poor and the outcast…does that sound like anyone you know? Anyone whose birth we await this time of year? [Jesus!] The early Christians saw in Isaiah’s prophecy a lens through which to interpret and understand the birth, life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

            This vision from Isaiah, which begins with the brutal commentary of loss, a dead stump with all its emptiness, has been transformed into a sign of hope. Life in the face of death. Light in the midst of darkness. Justice in a world of oppression. And it is all ushered in by the prince of peace.

            But then, without any warning or even so much as a commercial break Isaiah’s prophetic vision shifts quicky. Now we no longer see the righteous ruler, but our attention is taken to a mountainside where some very unusual animal activity is taking place. There are big scary wolves, with sharp teeth laying down next to helpless lambs. There are mighty and ferocious leopards snuggling up next to baby mountain goats. There are young cows hanging out with lions and bears who could rip them to shreds if they wanted to…but they don’t seem interested in such a meal. Instead the lions and other predators are eating grass, grazing like cattle. There are human babies there as well playing with vipers and cobras who pose no threat to safety. What in the world is going on here? It doesn’t sound like the world as we know it!

            When I was in school there were some students who decided that they were going to start an underground campus newspaper. They wanted to tackle issues that no one was talking about, uncover injustice in the school community, shed light on things that were hidden. I’m sure where the idea came from but I remember that a couple of people were really fired up about. They asked me to be a part of the writing group, but I never was able to uncover any grand conspiracies, so I couldn’t figure out what to write about. One month, as a joke, I wrote an article about “interspecies conflict.” You know those age-old burning questions like who would win in a fight between a lion and a tiger. At the end of the piece I invited people to submit requests for future articles. And to my complete surprise, they did! Apparently our readership was really interested in these hot topics, like who would win in a fight between a crocodile or a hippopotamus, or my favorite, a grizzly bear and a great white shark.

            Humans have always been fascinated with animals in all their wildness. Predators and prey. We have TV channels devoted to watching footage of them, and we give sharks an entire week each year. We are fascinated by the way this food chain works.

That’s why Isaiah’s vision of this peaceable animal kingdom stand out as so shocking. That’s not the way the world works. Wolfs eat sheep. They always have. But in this prophecy, all are safe. All are at peace. The food chain is broken. The world is changed, new creation for now the lions, tigers, and bears are all vegetarians.

At first, this vision seems so far-fetched, so unrealistic that is bears no relevance on our world or Isaiah’s. It sounds nice, but come on, really? That kind of changes in the created order, if it ever happens, it certainly won’t be for thousands and thousands of years, right? But could it be that Isaiah is saying something that matters for our world today? Could it be that like the stump from the first vision, this image of animal peace and nonviolence works on more than one level? Could it be that these predators being transformed is precisely the kind of peaceful, hopeful call that we long for in the coming of the Prince of Peace.

For we certainly still live in a world full of predators. Our news is filled with stories of individuals in power preying upon those who are weak, innocent, young. Politicians resigning from office, is only the tip of the iceberg in terms of the ways that predatory behavior around sex and gender have permeated our world, our families, our work places. We are increasingly aware in our schools of the presence and patterns of bullies and the ways in which social media has only sharpened their teeth and increased their reach. Predatory loan practices are big business these days.

We live in a world in which institutions and societies, even entire nations, still prey upon those who are poor or in need. The disregard for human life and dignity perpetrated by those bend on paths of terrorism and destruction is increasing rea. There are predators today just as ferocious and fearsome as the Assyrian Empire was in Isaiah’s day.

The vision of the Prophet Isaiah, the fleeting glimpse of the wolf and lion lying down with the lamb and calf is powerful, because it is the very change that we wish for, yearn for, right here and right now. We pray for a world in which might would not make right. In which what is empty would be filled. A world of free from war, terrorism, abuse, and violence. We pray as we sing, “Bid envy, strife, and discord cease. Fill the whole world with heaven’s peace.”

And while Isaiah’s vision may seem so far gone, so out there, that it feels impossible, the truth is, it is has already begun! He says, “a little child shall lead them.” In the good news of the Christian gospel we know the truth, we sing it and proclaim it, that this little child has already come. That the prince of peace has been born in a stable and that his rule has already begun. It not yet finished (not by a long shot) but it has begun.

In this season of Advent we speak this double truth. On the one hand we celebrate the good news of his birth, his new life amidst all the stumps of our fallen world. And in the very same breath we confess that his kingdom is not yet fully come, his will is not yet done on earth as it is in heaven. Isaiah’s vision of the prince of peace and the transformation of creation grounds our hope in God’s promise, and it pushes us to work, to strive, to struggle and sacrifice for the day when the world shall lay down his weapons and lie down with the lamb. When the lonely shall be lifted up. When the vulnerable shall be at peace.

O come, O come, Emmanuel! To God alone be the glory.

Scripture

Isaiah 11: 1-9

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked. Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist, and faithfulness the belt around his loins.

The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.

Sermon

November 19, 2107:  Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

What does grace look like?

A wise preacher once said that grace is the most important word in the Christian vocabulary. “Almost everything that is distinctive about the Christian gospel is packed into that lovely word. Grace stands at the beginning and end of all of God’s ways with us.”[i]

At its most basic level, grace means God’s free gift of salvation to us in Jesus Christ—free, with no strings attached. Grace means God doing for us what we could never do for ourselves, delivering us from the powers of sin and evil. Robert Louis Stevenson, the great Scottish author once wrote, “There is nothing but God’s grace. We walk upon it, we breath it; we live and die by it!”[ii]

We might be asking, “That’s great, but how do I get it?” How do we get grace? How do we earn it? How do we achieve this wonderful state of being. The radically surprising and good news of the gospel is that we don’t, we can’t, and God has already done it for us once and for all.

As good as that might sound, it’s something that we have an awfully hard time accepting and living by. The letter to Ephesians says that we “have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.” We have been “justified” –made right by God’s sheer gift of grace. But nearly every hour of every day we seek to justify ourselves, to find our value, our purpose, our importance, our meaning in what we do.

Some of us seek to justify ourselves by our work. Believing that if we work harder and harder, longer and longer we can earn our place in the world and achieve success. We convince ourselves that this work has to be done for us to master our circumstance, but in truth this addiction to achievement becomes our own cruel master, demanding more and more time away from the ones we claim that we are doing all this work for, turning friends and colleagues into competitors and opponents, leaving us with an ever growing emptiness inside that we seek to fill with even more activity. Yes, some of us seek to justify ourselves by work.

But others of us seek to justify ourselves by our image, our outward appearance and physical physique. For generations advertisers have been selling us the myth that outer beauty and artificial youth make us morel lovable and full of joy. And we have bought into that lie hook, line, and sinker.

Others of us try to justify ourselves by being superior those around us that don’t measure up our standards. We are critical of anyone who looks differently, acts differently, lives differently, or votes differently than ourselves. We speak about “those people” with such moral or social superiority because deep down with think that if those people are so wrong it must make us right. Like petty kids on a playground we act out of our own insecurity as if tearing others down will build ourselves up, but in truth it only leaves us in an ever-shrinking circle of loneliness as we isolate ourselves from all those imperfect, wrong people.

We all have our ways of trying to justify ourselves, some of us by the numbers in our paycheck, or the degrees we have earned. Some of us by a false humility of self-rejection or by living vicariously through others for whom we have sacrificed so much. We each have our own ways of trying to make ourselves who we are, to justify our very existence, but each of these well-worn paths lead to the same place: failure and fear, emptiness and loneliness, self-destruction and self-isolation. In the end we cannot justify ourselves, not matter how hard we try. Like those fishermen in our story this morning, we keep trying and trying and trying to catch fish, to catch a break, to catch success on our own, but on our own we keep coming up short.

But then, what happens in the story? Just as those fishermen are ready to give up, they encounter the Christ who calls out to them and invites them to cast their nets on the other side—the other side of their own achievement, the other side of their own failure. Christ calls them to operate not out of their own knowledge and skill but out of sheer faith. And when they do, they receive more fish than they could ever dream of hauling in. Grace upon grace!

We are not justified, we are not made right with God, we do not earn our existence by anything that we do, but by God’s free gift of grace alone. Grace alone!

Reformed theologian Shirley Guthrie reflects on this doctrine of Justification by Grace. He says, “It sounds too good to be true…You do not have to try to buy God’s love and acceptance, because you already are loved and accepted by God—without any qualification or prerequisites. God does not say, ‘I will love you if you are good, if you prove yourself worthy, if you do so and so, if you first love me.’ God simply says, ‘I love you just as you are—you, not your righteousness, your humility, your faith, or your accomplishments.’”

Grace means God loves you, God loves us, even with all our brokenness and imperfections. The Baptist preacher and activist Will Campbell once boiled down the Christian gospel into seven words: “We’re all [sinners] but God loves us.” God loves you no matter what. That’s what grace is.

Now this grace isn’t easy; it isn’t cheep. No, it costs a great deal. It cost God the very life of God’s own son. What does grace look like? It looks like the only one who was without sin, being put to death by all of us, crucified for all our sins, and with his dying breath praying, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Grace is costly to God and yet is freely given to us, over and over and over in our lives. Grace is poured out on us so much that we cannot haul the nets its.

What does grace look like? On this Sunday of our Alternative Gift Market we welcomed seven different mission agencies to our church so that we could hear about the important work that they are doing in our community and around the world ands so that we could support and partner with them through our financial gifts. But even more so, we welcome them here so that we can learn from them what grace looks like.

Grace looks like a child who comes from a broken home, a child who has had to fear for their own safety being welcomed and cared for at St. Mary’s home.

Grace looks like a mother, who has lost her job, her house, all sense of security, who has been living in homelessness with her family, getting the gift of shelter and meals at Family Promise.

Grace looks like a poor rural farmer in Nepal receiving the gift of livestock to sustain not only her family, but her entire village for a generation thanks to Heifer International.

Grace looks like a man struggling with addiction and homeless receiving a warm meal, a treatment plan, and a reminder of God’s love from Wings of Life.

Grace looks like a woman who has suffered years of domestic abuse and finally made the decision to flee being welcomed in with shelter, protection, and safety at Penelope House.

Grace looks like a homeless man with no income, no insurance, no way to afford needed and necessary health care, life-saving critical needs, being welcomed in to Victory Health Partners and receiving life-giving care.

Grace looks like a woman who has been kicked out of her home because her family can no longer be drug down by her addictions, as her downward spiral goes lower and lower, she hears a rumor a place of recovery, a home for her, a Home of Grace. Home of Grace! Every week one of our longtime members and elders, Bill Layfield goes to the Home of Grace. He leads groups and teaches classes to the women, sharing his own journey of recovery with those who are just starting their own. Every time he meet with these groups he repeats the same mantra “I can’t. God can. I think I’ll let him.” “I can’t. God can. I think I’ll let him.” That’s grace. That’s fishing and failing all day and night on our own only to come up empty time and time again—I can’t. Then, in response to the call of Christ, to cast our net’s on the other side to “receive grace upon grace”—God can!

In none of these stories from our partner agencies do the people coming to their doors earn or deserve the care and shelter they receive. It is simply given–freely given without strings attached. That’s a glimpse, an echo, a reflection of God’s grace for all of us who do not deserve it and could never earn it.

Friends, the good news of the gospel is that we have been saved by grace in the life death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We have been saved by grace, and it is a free gift with no strings attached. We have been saved by grace and it sets us free from our old ways of trying to justify ourselves by what we do. In God’s grace we are invited to cast our nets on the other side to encounter the ridiculous overabundance of God’s love, which seems too good to be true. We have been saved by grace and glimpses of it are all around us if would but open our eyes and hearts and minds to see them.

“There is nothing but God’s grace. We walk upon it, we breath it; we live and die by it!” Thanks be to God!

[i] Allen C. McSween, sermon “What Are You Getting for Christmas?…Grace Upon Grace,” December 13, 2009, in Grace Upon Grace, 5.

[ii] Shirley Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 319.

Scripture

Luke 5: 1-11

Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.

When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, ‘Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.’ Simon answered, ‘Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets. ‘When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink.

But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’ For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.’ When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

Ephesians 2: 8-10, 19-22

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God— not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling-place for God.

Sermon

November 12, 2917:  Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

What is wrong with our world?! What is wrong with us? Last Sunday—one week ago—while this church family was sitting in pews and sharing in the Lord’s Supper an awful and horrific tragedy was taking place at another church in Texas. As we contemplate such senseless darkness, its only natural that we try to make sense out of it, that we look for reasons, explanations, causes. And we fall back into our old old debates. Some find blame in one corner others in another corner. If only we had less guns. If only we had more guns. Who is to blame, what is to blame? Mental illness? Disregard for human life? Broken homes? Scars from military experience? Who is to blame? What is to blame? What’s wrong with us as a country, a people, a world?
Politicians and pundits have their own self-serving quick and easy answers to that question. But as Christians, as people of faith, one of the ways that we seek to answer that question is with the doctrine of sin. Sin is what is wrong with us, sin in what is wrong with our world.

These violent atrocities aren’t the only signs of our sins. Our news feeds these days are filled with stories of sexual assault committed by actors and athletes, comedians and politicians. Terrorism, war, nuclear proliferation, rampant poverty, domestic abuse, sex trafficking—our sins are well covered and fully documented. As the author of Psalm 51 states, “[We] know [our] transgressions and [our] sin is ever before [us].”

Everywhere we look we see our brokenness–not just looking around us, but also looking behind us into our past. Our history is filled with the evidence of our fallen, sinful nature. As humans, our story is full of violence and hate. It always has been We can become whitewashed by a nostalgia that pretends things are worse today that in the past, but in truth we are just as sinful now as we were decades ago, centuries ago, 2,000 years ago. From a biblical perspective, Sin and violence, brokenness and disregard for human life are nothing new. They have been with us since nearly the very beginning.

So, our question for today is a very real one from our past and a very relevant one for our present: what is sin?

The Bible talks about sin in many ways and uses many images: a debt that we owe, missing the mark (missing the bullseye), overstepping limits, straying from God’s ways, rebelling, acting unjustly, treacherously, or profanely, being twisted, perverse, evil, wicked, or foolish.[i] There are so many images that seek to convey a sense of loss, or fallen-ness from what God intends for our lives.

When we talk about sin, I find we often fall into one of two traps: either we focus too much on 1) other people’s sins, or we focus too much 2) on our own sins.

When we are tempted to focus on other people’s sins, what’s wrong with all “those people,” Jesus’ own words invite us to take a long hard look at our own sinfulness. When a woman is caught in the sin of adultery he tells the angry mob that wants to execute her “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” He tells his disciples that if their eye or hand or other body parts cause them to sin they should cut them off. He challenges our hypocrisy by telling us to see the log in our own eye rather than focusing on the speck in our neighbor’s eye. He gets in trouble with the authorities because he eats with sinners, because he associates with “those people.” In other words, he invites me to spend way more my time, my thoughts, my prayers on my own sins, not those of someone else.

On the other hand, we can go too far and focus too much on our own sinfulness. As we’ve spent the fall remembering the stories of the Protestant Reformation, we cannot ignore the roll that sin had to play in the life of Martin Luther. Luther was a very anxious and guilt-ridden soul. By today’s standards we would surely diagnose him with some sort of psychological condition. Yet, Luther’s worry was not psychological but theological. He was haunted by the fear of his sins. He became a monk hoping to tame his fears by outwardly surrounding himself with reminders of his faith, but that only made it worse. He would go to personal confession with a priest every day and spend hours and hours listing all the wrong things he had done, all the sins which he was afraid he would be punished for. And then when he was finally finished and walking back to his room, he would remember one more sin that he had forgotten and would go running back to confess that one too. His mind and heart were trapped and fixated on his sin.

And so it came as a true shock and surprise when late one night, while reading the book of Romans Luther encountered a radically different truth about his sinful nature than what he had been taught. He saw in this scripture that Christ’s righteousness (not his own) is what would save him. What mattered even more than his sin was God’s grace and forgiveness in Christ. That night, Luther experienced a profound and life-changing sense of freedom from his sin—freedom not because he had corrected his imperfections or healed himself from what was broken, but freedom from knowing that Christ has conquered sin for him, once and for all! This seed of grace and truth would lead him to champion a theology more focused on grace than on sin, and it would compel him into the efforts to reform his church in ways that showed God’s grace. In truth, the Protestant Reformation really began that night, when Luther read about forgiveness in the book of Romans. Friends, be careful when you read you Bible, it just might change the world!

So, what exactly does the book of Romans have to say about sin? This letter is Paul’s final theological masterpiece. His magnum opus. He wrote it to a church that was severely divided along racial, ethical, religious, and social lines. Jews and Gentiles. Paul is writing in hopes of unifying that church family, and he begins to do so by throwing them all in the same pot. He says you may think that are better than each other, that being Jewish or being Gentile makes you superior and gives you a leg up in the world. But guess what folks, you’re all a bunch of sinners. Paul says all of you, all of us have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. We are all equally sinful, because for Paul, sin isn’t just the bad things you do. Those are merely the symptoms of the deeper darker disease, and all of us are equally infected by it. For Paul sin is a state that we are in, a condition in which we are all stuck, and the closest analogy he can use to describe it is being enslaved.

Slavery. Slavery to sin. In the American South we know all too well about the haunting, dehumanizing power of the institution of slavery. To be owned by someone else. To belong as property to someone else. You might have had some limited autonomy to decide what song to sing while you worked, whether to make friends with other slaves or just look out for yourself. But no matter what actions you did, everything in your life was performed under the condition, the state of being, the reality of slavery. That’s what Paul says sin is like. It’s not just what we do, it’s what we are trapped by, what we are stuck in, what we are enslaved to.

Paul goes on in Romans to explain the good news of the gospel, that the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ have set us free from this slavery. He has redeemed our brokenness. He has transferred us from the dominion of sin, that great tyrant, to the rule of grace and love under the power of our God of grace and love.

Then in our scripture this morning, anticipating questions or challenges, he asks, “What then are we to say? Should we continue in sin in order that grace may abound?” If God is going to forgive us anyway should we keep on sinning so that God can forgive us all the more? If you are a teenager out too late and you suspect your parent is going to forgive you for breaking curfew should you stay out even longer, hours and hours later, so that your parent’s forgiveness can be even stronger? If your boss tells you she’s going to forgive you and not press charges for stealing from the company, should you just keep on stealing so that her forgiveness is an even bigger deal? Should we who are forgiven, continue in sin? Paul says, “By no means.” Some Bibles render this “certainly not!” or “absolutely not.” This is a place where our English translations may be a bit too tame. For Paul is so emphatic here that he nearly drops an expletive. Should we keep on living by the old ways of sin? “[Blank] No!” He says. Because Christ has died so have you, you’ve died to that old way of life. And going back there is as nonsense as a slave who has been set free returning back to live in slavery again. No, he says, Christ has died and been raised again, and so have you. You, who are in Christ, who are baptized into his body, you are forgiven of your sin, so live like it. In light of the cross and the resurrection, live lives of gratitude because of God’s grace, live lives of   joy because you have been justified, live lives of service because you have been saved. Do not return to the old dominion of sin, but live ethically and responsibly because you have been set free.

The good news of the gospel is that sin is broken and defeated once and for all in Christ!

There’s an episode of the Andy Griffith Show in which Barney Fife falls asleep in church, right in the middle of the sermon. After worship is over he shakes the pastor’s hand and comments on how wonderful the sermon was. He says, “Yes sir, that’s one topic you just can’t talk enough about: sin!” Of course, Barney is wrong because missed the whole sermon, but he’s also wrong in another way. It is not sin but God’s forgiveness of sin, God’s grace, that we just can’t talk enough about!

To God alone be the glory!

[i] Al Winn, A Christine Primer, 64.

Scripture

Romans 6: 1-4, 10-14

What then are we to say? Should we continue in sin in order that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin go on living in it? Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. The death he died, he died to sin, once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.

Therefore, do not let sin exercise dominion in your mortal bodies, to make you obey their passions. No longer present your members to sin as instruments of wickedness, but present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and present your members to God as instruments of righteousness. For sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under law but under grace.

Sermon

November 5, 2017:  Rev. Anna Fulmer

In the Apostle’s Creed, we say, “I believe in the Communion of the Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. Amen.” But when we say the Communion of the Saints, what do we really mean? Who are “the saints?” Often, when we hear about saints, we think of Catholic saints like Mother Theresa, St. Francis—we think that saints are these superhuman people, holier than thou, who are better than us somehow. When we hear about saints, we assume that they are very pious people—we couldn’t possibly be saints—more like sinners! But what if I were to tell you that we are all saints—all of those who proclaim Jesus Christ is Lord. What if I were to tell you that according to Martin Luther, one of the pre-requisites to being a saint is to also be a sinner? Today, we are going to explore this phrase, the communion of the saints. So let us hear our Scripture, from 1 Corinthians: 1:2-9.

When someone does something really nice, I often will exclaim, “You are a saint!” And I must admit, I am using saint wrong—because being the communion of saints is not about being good, or getting everything perfectly right. You don’t have to have a halo above your head all the time to be considered part of the communion of saints. Paul both here and throughout his writings never uses saint singularly—he only refers to saints. To be sanctified is to be holy, to be set-apart together as a new people, a new society who proclaims Jesus Christ is Lord. We are not a saint on our own—we are saints because we believe and trust in Jesus—and that puts us into a whole new group.

We don’t act saintly, like the communion of saints on our own—we need each other. The Corinthians didn’t always act like saints—like God’s community. Paul is writing them because he knows there are divisions and disagreements among them. Usually, when I am not happy with someone’s behavior I launch into my complaints. But here, Paul first shares the good, his gratitude. What’s funny is that Paul is grateful for the Corinthians gifts—normally we aren’t grateful for other people’s gifts—usually we are jealous of what others have. What also is strange is that we know that the Corinthians are divided, and here Paul is talking about how great the community’s gifts are. You would think he would be focused on what they are lacking—unity. But here he is focused on the gifts God has given them. He is saying what he hopes they will be, what they can and are, but are not always. It’s telling your child, “you are smart, you are kind, you are important”[1], even when they are not always smart, kind, or important. You tell them these things, so that they believe it and in turn become it. You will it into being with your words.

Here at the beginning of his letter Paul reminds the Corinthians of their calling to be saints with all of those who believe throughout the world. Many of the Corinthians disagreements were about spiritual gifts, and whose were better. And as we all know, we all fall short. And so Paul does something brilliant. He tells them that together they are not lacking in any spiritual gift—what they do not have, others have, and it is together that they can do God’s will. He tells them without directly saying it, “Stop it guys! You need each other!” Together you are called to be saints. Together you are enriched in Christ Jesus, together the testimony of Jesus is stronger. Later, Paul will develop this image into the body of Christ—the hand and the head need each other to be the body—so it is with us—we need each other, we need all of the spiritual gifts in this place to live out our calling to be God’s saints.

So you might be thinking, great! We are all saints. We are saints because we have faith in Jesus…great! We need each other, we need to work together. We do a pretty good job of that. Our job is over. Let’s go home! It is true we are justified by God’s faith alone. But faith, and God’s faithfulness to us leads to action. We cannot separate our faith from our living. There is no such thing as Christian faith without living a Christian life. Sanctification is all about how we become God’s people. To be God’s saints, to be sanctified, we have to live like we are God’s people.

Bonhoeffer often talked about cheap grace. He describes cheap grace as, “Grace without price; grace without cost! The essence of grace, we suppose, is that the account has been paid in advance; and, because it has been paid, everything can be had for nothing…

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.

Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man will go and sell all that he has. It is the pearl of great price to buy which the merchant will sell all his goods. It is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble; it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him.

Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock.

Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son: “ye were bought at a price,” and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.”[2]

I think Bonhoeffer here, is telling us what it means to be part of the communion of saints. Being part of the saints is not easy. It is going to cost us something. It is not a social club with benefits. It requires us to sacrifice our money, our time, our lives, our selves for the sake of others. It requires us to follow Jesus—and that has always been hard. To be a part of the communion of the saints means that we cannot follow Christ on our own—we must work together—even with people that we do not understand or like, or have much in common. To be a part of the saints means that we cannot become complacent in our faith—we must constantly ask, “am I being challenged, am I growing, am I using and growing God’s gifts? To be a part of the communion of saints means that we are becoming something…we are not already there. We have more to work on. Whether we are 9 or 99 to be a part of the communion of the saints means that we are set apart, not because we are “special” but to fulfill God’s purpose—to do God’s work. To be the body in the world.

In our baptism, God chooses us. God calls us his children. But it takes a lifetime to learn how to LIVE as God’s child. It might seem like an impossible task. And on our own, it would be. That’s why we have a communion of saints. That’s why we do not rely on our own abilities, our own faithfulness. We trust and rely on God’s faithfulness. We work to be God’s saints, in gratitude, because God is faithful. In the end we are not blameless or perfect because of who we are—we are indeed sinners. But on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ, we are blameless and strengthened because Christ has already paid for our sins.

On this day, as we celebrate All Saints Day we remember all of those saints, all of those followers of Christ who have gone before us. They were not perfect. They were human and sinners. But they are indeed saints because of Christ, because God is faithful and lifted them up, and helped them to believe and live as Christians. They had various gifts. Maybe they used their gifts to teach you in Sunday school, maybe they used their gifts to raise you, maybe they used their gifts to give you legal advice, or listen, or pray for you or to love you or to make you laugh. As we lift up their names, we remember them in all of their goodness and in all of their flaws. And remember how God uses each and every one of us to fulfill his purpose in the world. And as we remember them, maybe we can sing in our hearts, one of my favorite songs about saints, that old gospel song: When the Saints Go Marching in How I want to be in that number. When the saints go marching in.” Friends may our lives be lived in gratitude for all God has done for us. Let us go marching out into the world to live together as God’s saints.

[1] Kathryn Stockett

[2] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship.

Scripture

1 Corinthians: 1:2-9

To the church of God that is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus, for in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind—just as the testimony of Christ has been strengthened among you—so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ. He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful; by him you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

This is the Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.