Pentecost 23 - Year B

“The building is our idol,” our esteemed bishop said in his report at yesterday's Southern Conference Convention. “Some churches, if they had a choice,” he said, “would rather be without a pastor than a building.”

I immediately knew what he was talking about. My first church was like that. They had been without a pastor for about two years before I arrived. And when I was moving into the parsonage a couple council members made it known to me that they were happier without a pastor.

At first I thought they were saying that being without a pastor energized the congregation, that ministry was happening among all God's people, not just the ones wearing dog collars, that people were empowered to live out their baptismal calling through Word, Sacrament, and service. I thought they meant that being without a pastor meant that they were forced to flex their ministry muscles.

No. That's NOT what they meant.

“When we're without a pastor,” I was told, “we take in A LOT more money than we give out. We were able to amass a small fortune before you came along. Now it's going to all be gone.”

I thought this was some isolated grump. Some mean, cheap, old guy who lost the crowbar that opens his wallet.

But no. There was something in the water of this little church. There was a palpable resentment over paying me.

The treasurer hemmed and hawed whenever I submitted my mileage for travel allowance. They didn't pay me my continuing education or book allowance. And half way through the year they cut off my dental insurance after I jokingly boasted about never having a cavity (40 years on this planet and STILL no cavities!). They would whine about how “poor” a congregation they were, so poor they couldn't afford to pay me what they agreed to.

However, I was up in the church attic one morning with some folks and we noticed that some of the beams holding the roof together were looking a little worn. One fellow has his drill with him and wanted to see how deep the wear and tear went into the beam.

The drill went through that beam like cotton. It looked like the 150 year old building was due for some serious maintenance. They hired a contractor and received a quote. It was somewhere around s$300 000 to make all the needed repairs.

It looked like this “poor” little congregation was headed for closure.

But no. This “poor” little congregation who who couldn't pay me according to synod guidelines raised the needed funds in just five Sundays.

“The building is our idol,” the bishop says. Or as the writer of Hebrews would put it, “Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands.”

I wish I could tell you that this was an isolated case. But I can't. I know of a church in Nova Scotia who let their pastor go because they said they didn't have the money to pay her. But they DID have the quarter of a million dollars to fix their bell tower when it toppled over – a bell tower!

“The building is our idol,” the bishop says. Or as the writer of Hebrews puts it, “Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands.”

The point isn't clergy welfare, but ministry vitality. What I think our bishop meant when he called the building an “idol” was that it's easy to worry about the upkeep of our physical space at the expense of Christ's mission.

This is something I'm VERY aware of. And I know most of you are as well. I know there's some among us that are hesitant or even opposed to us getting an elevator (eventually!). You've been very open with me that you feel that we should be spending money on people not bricks and mortar or elevator shafts.

And I hear that concern. And I'm sympathetic. “Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands” so maybe we shouldn't be spending so much on ourselves. At least that's what it can feel like.

But I don't think Good Shepherd is guilty of Bp. Ron's accusation. The building is not our idol. Our building is used 6 days and nights a week. There's always someone here. And by God's grace, there will be even more people coming here. And an elevator is simply the cost of doing ministry.

And we're working hard at making this worship space workable in this new configuration. And that will cost money. And I know that, since worship is the central act of the church, making such changes are the cost of worshiping God.

But it also feels to me like we're spending a lot of money on ourselves. Even though there are good, solid, gospel reasons why we're doing all this. And I've been thinking about these changes over the last year, wondering what we can do.

To me, it feels like 2009 has been a year of looking inward. And that was intentional. We explored the bible and our Lutheran theological tradition together, and we will continue to do so. We've tried to make our physical space more workable and attractive, which will be an on-going project. But these were all about US.

So, I'm going to give you folks a heads-up of what I'm thinking about for 2010. I'd like to make 2010 a year of mission, of looking beyond our doors, of touching people in the community with good news. I don't know exactly what this looks like yet, so I'd like to hear your ideas. And so would our executive. How can we impact people in our community with the gospel?

That's your homework for the next couple months and beyond. I have some impressions of what this might mean but I also know that you are a creative, faithful bunch who see opportunities that I do not.

Stepping beyond our doors is stepping beyond ourselves. In serving together as Christians we will grow together as Christians. And we will show the world that the church is not just some religious institution only interested in protecting itself, but that our call is to serve the world in Jesus' name, being salt and light, bearing witness to the God of life.


“Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands” because WE are that sanctuary. We are living stones, the holy temple where God dwells. Just like when Jesus in today's gospel despaired over religious leaders more interested in propping up the institution, and despaired even more of the little old widowed lady giving her final two pennies to corrupt, self-serving religious system, he did so because he knew that God was found in each of us, and in all of us together. This place we gather is sacred because this is where God's people – Christ's church – assembles to worship and to serve. This is home base for God's children, where we can rest and be fed, to go back into the world carrying God within us wherever we go.

So, bring me your ideas of how we can serve. Together, we'll bring Jesus' healing and forgiveness to a broken, hurting, and sin-stained world.

May this be so among us. Amen.

Reformation Day - Year B

“Let every person be subject to the governing authorities;” Paul says, “for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Do you wish to have no fear of the authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive its approval; for it is God’s servant for your good.”

On what planet was Paul living on when he wrote that? “Rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad.,” he says.

Really? Is that so?

Paul should know better. After all, as a Roman citizen he knew what the Roman government was capable of. He was eye-witness to brutal executions. The empire-building on the backs of slaves. He watched as people were forced to worship Caesar. No matter what religion they were.

In Jerusalem, he knew all about Herod's slaughter of 1000s of innocent children. The corrupt, puppet governments. The two-faced, double-dealing leaders.

This passage makes no sense when you think of where Paul came from. Or where any of us come from.

And this passage defies logic when placed along side of the rest of Paul's message. In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul rails against the “rulers of this age.” Earlier in Romans, Paul demands that Christians confront the “principalities and powers” of this world. Not to submit to them.

This passage seems shoe-horned into this letter. As if it's not meant to be here. It feels out of place. Like someone put words in Paul's mouth.

In fact, a small group of scholars say that's exactly what happened. They say that since this passage doesn't make sense in either Paul's historic context or with the rest of his message, that it must have been put in this letter by another hand. Someone with a political axe to grind. Because this passage definitely DOESN'T sound like Paul by any estimation.

Other bible scholars twist themselves into knots trying to justify Paul's blessing of Caesar's authority. They say that the only authority that can ever exist can only come from God, because God is the source of all authority, and gives it out to whomever God wants. And since Caesar had authority, that authority must come from God. Pretty much what Paul was saying.

And they can quote Jesus standing before Pilate, the symbol of Caesar's power: "You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above” (John 19:11).

But Jesus didn't submit to Pilate. Not in the way Paul is saying we should. And Jesus definitely didn't call Pilate “good.”

And if Paul were to follow his own advice he would never have found himself in jail so often.

It turns out folks who defend this passage are often defending their own authority over others. Defending the social and political status quo over those who are asking for change. And so this reading of this passage is a recipe for tyranny.

Others suggest that Paul was trying to level the political playing field. They point out that Paul says “EVERYONE” should submit to the governing authorities. No one gets a free pass. No one gets special treatment. Everyone is equal under the law. And since everyone is equal, everyone can participate. Every voice is heard. No one is powerless.

If this interpretation is correct, then this is subversive stuff. Rome liked their hierarchy. They luxuriated in knowing their place in society. And the game was to move up in their world.

And here, some say, Paul is turning this upside down and flattening it. For Paul, hierarchies are destroyed and everyone has a say. Paul is advocating a democratic society where all people have a chance to participate.

This sounds good! Especially when Paul's the guy who said that “there is no jew or greek, slave or free, male or female. All are one in Christ Jesus” (Gal 3:28). Radical social equality was a big part of Paul's message. Paul was all about tearing down walls between people, opening doors, to let the fresh wind of freedom blow through.

So, maybe this passage is hammering this message home even further.

But this interpretation ignores the problem of tyranny and corruption. How is the Christian to respond if the divinely appointed governing authorities steam-roll over the people they're supposed to govern? Paul creates no mechanism for holding leaders accountable for their behaviour or decisions.

Paul simply says, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement.”

Again, this passage makes no theological or practical sense. It's hopeless naïve. Dangerously unrealistic.

But then I came across someone who said that Paul was making a joke. He was being ironic. Even sarcastic. He had his tongue firmly planted in his cheek. It's the only explanation that makes sense to me.

“Let every person be subject to the governing authorities;” Paul says, “for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Do you wish to have no fear of the authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive its approval; for it is God’s servant for your good.”

It has to be a joke. Try this:

“Let every person be subject to their bank and credit card provider. Don't bother checking your statement each week, because banks and credit card providers come from God. After all, God is the God of all our resources, and banks and credit card providers are faithful stewards of God's abundance. If you question your bank, your are questioning God, and you will incur judgment.”

Or...

“Let every person be subject to the used car salesmen. They have your best interest in mind. God has appointed them to make sure that you are able to get from place to place without hassle. They will give you the best car for the best deal. They are only worried about you; your mobility and your safety. To question or resist the divinely appointed used car salesmen, you are are questioning or resisting God, and you will incur judgment.”

You hear what I'm saying? That's what the Roman Christians heard when Paul talked about blindly obeying the government.

Martin Luther often did the same thing. Often he preached such outrageous sermons that people couldn't take them seriously.

Although Luther, in his commentary on this passage, took it at face value, he didn't practice it with Church authorities. He said this passage applied to secular authority, not to church authority. Which, of course, makes no sense. Authority is authority. And you could make a stronger case for church authority coming from God more than secular authority.

So, how then should WE read this passage? What do we do with it? What was Paul REALLY trying to say?

To be honest, I don't know. None of us fully obey this passage at face value. And rightly so. Both Paul and Luther didn't do so – they failed righteously in following this bit of scripture. And the world is better for it.

So what does this say about the bible?

Within our denonimation there is a huge fight taking place. Some say it's about interpretation of the bible. Some say it's about the authority of the bible itself.

Some are advocating what is called a “plain sense” reading of the bible, which means that “the bible says what it says that's the end of the story. No interpretation required. And our job is to obey what it says.”

And while that sounds good, we've seen from today's reading that it's not as simple as it looks. There is no such thing as a “plain sense” reading of the bible. We all bring our backgrounds, our histories, our ways of looking at the world into how we read the bible.

Words – even bible words - don't exist in a vacuum. Just like if a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, it DOESN'T make a noise because there is no ear present to process the sound waves, so too, words don't exist unless there is someone to read them. A closed book makes little impact on people.

Words are given life when they are spoken, heard, or read. Words are made flesh when people struggle to live by them, when communities of faith are shaped by them, when churches fight over their meaning, when they rip holes in our minds and blast their way through our souls.

It's been said that the Church is at the doorstep of a new Reformation. That the Church is changing from being the dominant religious force in society to having to prove its relevance.

But what I think is happening is that God, by the power of the Spirit, is asking churches to think deeply about how we use the bible, how we read it, what Jesus' message of life and salvation means for us today.

Too often, we Lutherans are still fighting the battles of the 16th century; exposing heresies, fighting the Roman Catholic Church as if it's still the boss of us, and worried that people are still fraught with fear over their salvation.

Our theology and liturgies still focus on the sin-forgiveness transaction that soothed anxious 16th century souls and launched the Protestant church.

But God is opening our eyes to the needs of today and tomorrow. God is calling us out of a medieval mindset to proclaim the good news that needs to be heard today – at this moment. Not 500 years ago.

We are being called into the 21st century to bind up 21st century wounds, to dry 21st century tears, to preach good news to the 21st century poor, to set 21st century captives free. That's our mission. That's our call.

Ecclesia semper reformanda est. The church is always reforming. That's what they said in the 16th century. And that's still true now.

God is always moving within and among us, changing, transforming, destroying and rebuilding. We have a God who brings dead things to life. A God who calls us from the future to live those future promises now – today. Where we are.

That is OUR Reformation.

And may this be so among us. Amen.

Pentecost 19B Romans Series

Romans 10: 5-17

What will the church of the future look like?

Will churches resemble what we have now? Will churches have pews and pastors, committees and councils, hymns and hierarchies?

Will leaders be trained in seminaries? Will there be a clergy/lay divide? Will we have buildings?

Probably “yes” to all these things. Some churches will hold on the current ways of being and doing church. Why fix what isn't broken? After all, it's worked for hundreds of years. If God didn't want the church to run this way why would God have established it like this? Right?

But also a big “NO.” I think God is doing something among mainline churches, those United, Presbyterian, United, and Anglican, churches that have some roots in the Reformation.

It's hard to say exactly what God is doing. But something is happening. There must be something that God is telling us as God has given us a front row seat to watch the decline of the institutional church. There must be a reason God put us here, at this place, in this time. There must be a reason God has allowed the body of Christ to atrophy, allowed us witness it's muscles and bones become weaker and weaker.

We're being asked to do more with less. More work with fewer volunteers. We see synod and national church programs get hacked to bits through lack of funds, yet still we're supposed to renew the church as resources are dwindling.

We watch our seminaries struggle financially, and say, “only if they taught more evangelism courses, or produced better preachers, or stuck to the basics, we'd produce leaders who would guide our churches back to where they once were.”

We watch helplessly as a world changes from church-going to church-indifferent; from where churches stood close to the centre of cultural power to being pushed to the periphery; from institutional respect to institutional obscurity.

And bad news stories only further hurt our institutional stability. A Roman Catholic Bishop is arrested for selling child porn. A family-values preacher cheats on his wife. A church leader gets caught with her hand in the financial cookie-jar.

It's almost as if, no matter how hard we try, we're emptying water buckets on the Lusitania.

So what is God telling us?

Today's Romans reading might be a clue.

First, some backstory. This is one of the sections where the changes of Paul's anti-semitism finds its legs.

Paul is complaining about his some of his fellow Jews in this passage. He's angry that they don't recognize Jesus as the Messiah. He spends a lot of time on this in Romans, probably because there was a sizable Jewish population in Rome and he wants to make sure that his Roman Christian friends have the right tools when evangelizing – or proclaiming Jesus as Messiah – to those Jewish non-Christians.

And then, and also today, our Jewish friends take real offense at what Paul was trying to do. And maybe rightly so. They knew the bible as well as he did. They prayed the same prayers and worshipped the same way Paul did. They yearned for the Messiah's arrival just as Paul did.

They didn't appreciate Paul's message. They thought Paul was delusional and arrogant. They thought he abandoned the historic faith. They thought he betrayed the message of the bible, and because of this, he betrayed his people.

They counter Paul's message about Jesus by asking, “If Jesus is the Messiah, then why didn't he do what the Messiah was supposed to do? Why didn't Jesus return Jerusalem to Israel? Why didn't Jesus defeat the enemies of Judaism? Why didn't Jesus usher in the era of peace and justice? Why doesn't the world look more redeemed?”

The classic answer to these questions is, and maybe you've heard this too: Jesus DID redeem the world. Just not in the ways people were expecting. God may have promised that the Messiah would bring peace on earth, put an end to world hunger, and restore Israel to the golden age of King David. But what God decided instead was to save people from their sins.

Again, that's the classic preacher's response to Jewish objections. But that doesn't satisfy me any more than it satisfies our Jewish friends. That's like saying, “God promised to do one thing and told us to prepare and pray for it, but instead, God did something else, and is angry that we don't recognize it.”

It's like telling your kids that you'll give them their favorite ice cream if they cleaned their room, but then you put hotdogs in front of them after their done, then punish them and call them silly when they ask where the ice cream is.

And I don't think Paul is unaware of these objections. He'd spent his whole life studying the scriptures. He went to synagogue every week to pray for the Messiah's coming. He hadn't learned since he was a little boy what the Messiah was supposed to do.

So, it's not as if he's uninformed of these concerns. He's just a little unsympathetic. Because he knows in his skin who Jesus is for him. And he can't figure out why anyone – especially his fellow Jews – wouldn't see in Jesus what he saw in Jesus.

His encounter with the Risen Christ so thoroughly transformed him that he wanted others to experience what he did.

His exploration of the scriptures so convinced him that Jesus was who Christians proclaimed him to be that he staked his life, his labour, and his life-eternal on that message.

We can argue with Paul about how he thinks Jewish people relate to God, but I wonder if we can learn from him as well. I wonder if he can shed some light on our future.

“If you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved,” Paul says.....”For, ‘Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’

Then he goes on...

“But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent?.....So faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ.”

Paul is saying that our job is simply to proclaim that Jesus was raised from the dead. But also, he says that we are to be “sent.” We are NOT to stand still. We are to be constantly on the move. Changing. Growing. Being sent means leaving some things behind. It means giving something up.

So, I wonder if God is asking us what we're going to give up in order to accomplish God's mission. Change means leaving somethings behind. Growth means fitting into new clothes.

God is changing us. God is changing the church and God is changing the world. And change is hard. We like things to be stable, we like to feel secure, we don't like it when life gets out of control.

But God isn't interested in stability or security. God never stands still. God is always moving, blowing fresh life into dry bones. Too often, we church-folks, enter the future walking backwards, our eyes fixed on what has been rather than looking forward to what God is doing.

Our job is not to complain about what we have lost, but to see what we're gaining. The Christian task is not to wipe our eyes at the setting sun, but to celebrate at the horizon of a new day.

We believe in a God who raised Jesus from the dead, a God who is making all things new, a God who hasn't given up on the church or the world, but calls us to proclaim that Jesus is alive and to live a resurrection life.

And a resurrection life has feet. It's always moving, it's always changing. The same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead also raises us from a comfortable church life and hurls us into the terrifying freedom that belongs to the children of God.

Resurrection life is hard. It makes demands. But it also brings life. It IS life. For everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved.

We won't know what the church of the future will look like until we get there. We don't know what the Spirit is doing. But paul does offer us the same challenge that he gave the church in Rome. That's why Paul challenged the Roman Christians to share Jesus story with others. That's why he asks us the same questions he asked the Romans church:

“But how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent?.....So faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ.”

That is our call. This is our joy.

May this be so among us. Amen.

Pentecost 18B - Romans Series

"We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

We know that, do we? That's something we can ALL agree on, is it?

We know that all things work together for good or those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

There are days when I don't like this verse. Not because I don't think it's true. But the days I don't like this verse are the days when, it's misused, when I hear it as a cop-out, a way of protecting our beliefs against the mystery of suffering. When its used to push aside or even dismiss other peoples' pain from someone who's uncomfortable with strong feelings. When it's used as an easy answer to life's hardest question.

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

If only it were that easy. If only we could always trust that it were true. If only those words worked like a magic formula when pain arrives at our front door.

But there are days when it's hard to make sense of what Paul is saying.

When staring at the pill bottle, wondering why the medicine isn't working, and you can't shake feelings of despair and emptiness, your sister tells you,

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

What do you hear when she says that? Do you thank her for those comforting words. Or do you want to smack her for diminishing your pain?

When, after 20 years of marriage, you find yourselves across the desk from a lawyer, trying to figure out who gets the kids on what weekends, who gets the house, how the assets are going to be divided. You're starting over. Back to square one. You find yourself alone. You open your bible and you're told,

We know that all things work together for good or those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

How do you respond? Do those words soothe your sorrowing soul. Or do you get even angrier?

When you're standing at the foot of casket, and the person inside is far too young to be there. Your grief has no words. Your pain is too great for tears. Someone whispers in your ear,

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

Do you believe it? Is this good news? Or do those words slam the lid shut on your relationship with God?

It doesn't even have to be us who suffer to make this passage hard.

We may open the paper and see that an earthquake obliterated villages in Indonesia, killing 4000 people. Or we turn on the TV and we're told that a typhoon is bearing down on the Philippines for the second time in a month. Or we learn that, every 3.5 seconds, a child dies of hunger and malnutrition related diseases, while we work at losing weight.

A preacher then says, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose.”

A liberating word? Or a way of letting us off the hook?

I don't know about you, but I find that it's easier to believe that God's Big Picture makes sense when suffering is simply an abstract thought. An idea to be pondered.

We're told that God has a master plan, a plan which we can't know, and therefore we simply just have to accept that suffering happens for a reason, that pain is part of that plan.

When life is good, God's plan seems clearer, more apparent. Easier to swallow.

But when that awful phone call comes, when the doctor gives you the terrible news, when you're visiting with the funeral home, it's harder to believe that something good comes of it. It's harder to believe that our pain is part of God's purpose.

It's harder to say that “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose” and believe that it's true.

It's in those times, we may say, If this is God's purpose then I don't want any part of it. I'd rather have my marriage re-assembled. I'd rather be healthy. I'd rather have my child back.”

If this is part of God's plan then God can leave me out it, I'd rather the weather not kill people. I'd rather that every child have a decent meal every day. I'd rather their be peace on earth. I'd rather that suffering be relegated to file-folder of history. That's what I'd like.

As many of you know, I'm turning 40 in a couple weeks (Really! I'm not kidding!) So I've been a little extra reflective these days, enjoying the sight of my naval perhaps a bit too much. ( These days it's pretty easy to find!). I'm anticipating the approaching mid-life crisis. So don't be surprised if, by Christmas, you see me riding a motorcycle or driving little red Corvette.

What I've realized is that, over the 40 years I've been on this planet, I've become less and less surprised by suffering. Less and less surprised by peoples' pain, by natural disasters, by peoples' self-centredness.

And I've learned that suffering is part of creation. It's what happens in a broken and fallen world. It shows us that world still isn't how God wants it to be.

But I've also learned that God hasn't finished with the world yet. That the kingdom – or the reign of God – isn't fully here.

But where did suffering come from? Did God make suffering?
I don't know. But what I do know is that God suffers. God suffers deeply. God suffers because God loves. Where there is no love, there is no suffering.

But God turns suffering around and creates something beautiful from it. Where pain, suffering, and death reside, God creates life.

We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now;” Paul says, “and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies.”

Labour pains! Paul is saying that our suffering is labour pains, giving birth to a new creation.

I find this way of talking about suffering REALLY helpful. Paul is saying, “Yes, your pain is real. I know there are days when you can barely get out of bed. I know there are days when your wounds of grief is so raw you can hardly speak. I know there are days when it looks like life is over, the world is ending, that sin and evil will triumph.

But these are just the beginning of something new that God is doing. A new day is coming when God’s New Creation finally comes in it’s fulness, the dead shall rise, and everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved.

And for Paul, this wasn't some mushy, pie-in-the-sky when you die sort of stuff. For Paul this was a promise he clung to with both hands. Paul wasn't some naive preacher telling people what they wanted to hear. Paul was preaching from the bowels of Hell. He knew what suffering was. He had been tortured, imprisoned, shipwrecked, beaten, insulted. He had watched some of his friends be executed. He had seen some of his ministries fail.

This is why I take this passage from Paul so seriously. Paul wasn't some thinker speculating on the problem of suffering from the basement of a church. Paul's letters have blood stains on them. They arrived to their readers wet with tears.

That's why Paul writes so passionately. That’s why he could talk about hope and people would believe him. Paul didn't have time for feel-good religion or easy answers to life's toughest questions. He suffered too much for such nonsense. The heat from Hell's flames singed his eyebrows.

That's why I can stand with Paul when he says about our pain,

What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else? Who will bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

As it is written,
‘For your sake we are being killed all day long; we are accounted as sheep to be slaughtered.’ 

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

May this be so among us. Amen!

Pentecost 17B - Romans Series

“What then are we to say? Should we continue in sin in order that grace may abound?”

Seems like an odd question, don't you think? Should we continue to sin so that we'll get more of God's love and mercy? Should we continue to hurt one another so that we'll receive more of God's forgiveness? Should we continue to inflict pain on ourselves so that we'll receive more of God's healing?

The answer seems as clear as the shine on my head.

But apparently, this wasn't just a rhetorical flourish on Paul's part. It was a real problem in some churches in Rome. People were “sinning” in order to get an extra dose of God's loving kindness. They were breaking God's Laws, intentionally seeking condemnation, simply so they would feel God's warm, forgiving embrace.

(Well, that was their story and they were sticking to it. The cynic in me wonders if that's just what they told their fellow churchies. “Ummm...yeah, I stole my neighbour's pig, but that was just so I could have another experience of God's amazing love, not because I needed to fill my freezer with tasty, tasty, bacon.”)

I had a little trouble following Paul's logic at first - “Should we continue in sin in order that grace may abound?” - I had troubling figuring out what he was saying because sinning “so that grace may abound” is not the charge leveled at Paul from 21st century Christians.

What people find hard about Paul today is that they're afraid that people will abuse God's grace, that they'll take God's forgiveness for granted, almost as an entitlement. They're afraid that folks will think,

“Well...I know that stealing this coffee mug from work is wrong, but God will forgive me.”

“I may get a little creative on my taxes, but, hey, everyone does it. Plus, we have a forgiving God.”

“What I do is my own business. It's between me and God. And God always forgives me.”

“I can do what I want because God will forgive me. That's God's job.”

That's the sort of abuse that some people are afraid of.

And the gut response from well-meaning 21st century Christians is to say, “Don't sin. Don't abuse God's loving grace by sinning. God may forgive you but that doesn't give you license to behave any way you want.”

Too much grace = too much sin. Same problem that Paul confronted, but in a different form. It's like they don't want this whole grace and forgiveness thing to get out of hand. And we certainly can't let that happen, can we?

We have to make sure that people behave properly. Being a Christian means doing some things and NOT doing some things. We need to set an example for the world by living according to God's commands. And we need to hold each other accountable for their behaviour, so people can get a hold of the sin in their lives, trapping it, then killing it.

Right?

Well, look what Paul does when dealing with those who would mis-use God's grace. He doesn't drop the hammer. He doesn't wave a finger in their faces. He doesn't tell them how much they've hurt God and others. He doesn't set up accountability groups nor does he call them to repent.

He simply reminds them what God has done for them. He reminds them of who they are and WHOSE they are:

“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. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”


We may recognize this passage from the funeral liturgy. It's the part at the beginning where the pastor is supposed to put the funeral pall over the coffin, symbolizing the promise that the deceased is covered by God's love and mercy, and the power of death has been destroyed, and newness of life – the resuurection of the dead – is a promise just a breath away.


And while all that is true, Paul isn't talking about grace just for dead people in this passage. Paul is saying that the living – you people, right? You're alive, last I checked! – the living RIGHT NOW have died and risen with Jesus. You are made new. You are living the resurrection here – today.

Paul goes on, saying,


“We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin. For whoever has died is freed from sin. But if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. The death he died, he died to sin, once for all; but the life he lives, he li

ves to God. So...consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.”


“So...consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.” Paul isn't saying, “Don't sin.” He's saying, your sin is dead. Your sin died when you died, when Jesus was nailed to the cross and took you with him. You are no longer a slave to sin. You are free. Your old sinful self went to grave with Jesus, and your renewed self rose with Jesus.

To those who were sinning even more that grace may abound, Paul says, stop wasting your time. Your sin is dead. Live in God's forgiveness.

To those who would worry that people would abuse God's grace by behaving any way they want, regardless of how God wants them to live, Paul says, “We can't abuse God's grace any more than we have when we nailed God's Son to a Roman cross. We will always mis-use and abuse God's grace. We can't NOT abuse God's grace. That's why it's called 'grace.'”

One thing that mainline churches, churches like Anglicans, United, Presbyertians, and us Lutherans have been accused of is not taking sin seriously enough. We've been accused, by some Christians, of being “wishy-washy,” that we don't confront the sins in each others' lives like other Christians do. That we don't have a robust understanding of sin. That we simply mirror the surrounding culture, that the people in our pews – you guys – aren't any different than non-church folks. That our churches aren't real churches. And because of this, God is judging us.

We've been accused of dishonouring God's grace by not trying live according to God's standards.

These accusations used to make me mad. Yes, they're insulting and self-righteous. Yes, these folks seems to bask in their shame rather than in God's forgiveness. And yes, they should take the log out of their own eyes before condemning the splinter – or log - in our's.

But after reading this passage from Romans I began to wonder who they think God is, what they think happened when Jesus hung on the cross. I began to think they maybe THEY don't have a robust enough understanding of sin if they think that we can get rid of the sin in our lives.

I began to wonder if their anger is really masking their jealousy: jealousy that we live our freedom and they live their guilt. I began to wonder if they don't trust God's grace to transform us. To change us. To work within us.

Paul is clear: God is changing you. God HAS changed you. God is changing and has changed you from the inside out, through the power of the Holy Spirit, “who calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes us holy.” It's not our work that changes us. It's God's work.

Lean into it. It's like vaulting yourself into the air in skydiving – your parachute will hold you up. Make the jump – you've already died, in Christ -

So, now go and live in your forgiveness. Go and live your freedom. See what God is doing and has done in your life. See what God is doing and has done in the world. You have been made new. You are part of the world's transformation which began that morning when Jesus folded up his grave clothes and walked out of his tomb, the first born of a whole new world.

May this be so among us. Amen.

Pentecost 16B - Romans Series

“We stopped going to church,” she told me, a little apologetically, a little defiantly, waiting for my response. She knew I was a pastor and was probably waiting for the scolding that might come her way.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Well...it’s hard to say,” she said. “I used to go to a church outside of town, where my husband and I are from. We got involved in the evangelical world. Then we landed at a pentecostal church. Then to another, more traditional church. Then we just stopped.”

“Why’d you stop? If you don’t mind me asking,” I said.

It was clear she wasn’t sure if she could fully trust me. After all, I make my living in a church, getting people into church, and chasing after them when they stop coming to church. She probably thought I might see her as a fresh prospect for my own ministry, rather than someone who needs God's love, someone with her own needs and hurts.

But she cocked her head to one side and said, “We just felt that, on Sunday mornings, we left church with a bigger burden on ourn shoulders than what we came in with. The preaching was a lot of finger wagging. There was a lot of talk about sin, but not very much about grace.”

Then she stopped talking for a minute or two.

“My husband and I felt that we needed to get away from church in order to find God, our own sense of who God is in our lives. All we were getting from church was do’s and don’ts, instead of God’s grace and mercy.”

My heart broke for her. Clearly, she knew the bible. She knew that the heart of God's story is mercy, forgiveness, and love. She knew the lingo of the church. But she didn't get God's message from God's people.
I have to admit, I was tempted to invite her and her family to Good Shepherd, because if there’s one thing we know about at Good Shepherd is mercy and grace. At least I hope we do.

But I thought, No, this isn’t the time. As much as I think they would find a welcoming and a home at our church, I thought that she might need some time for her to get to know and trust me. And through me, the church. They needs to know that God has no other agenda for them other than to love them.
She’s not alone. I meet people all the time who tell stories about how they’ve been hurt by the church. I NEVER hear that people walked away from church because of Jesus, saying that his demands were too hard or that they found his message offensive.

But people tell me that it was God’s people that drove them from church. God may be good, gracious, and merciful. But God’s people are often tnot.
I think that’s what Paul was getting at in today’s reading. In the book of Romans, Paul spends a lot of time pouring cold water on a heated church fight. And he was no objective observer, a disinterested mediator. Paul took sides. He sided with those gentile Christians who didn’t want to be circumcised in order to become followers of Jesus ( I know...ouch).

He took the side of those who were being kept out of full membership in Christ’s church because of who they were. He took the side of those outside looking in, hoping to hear a word of grace, mercy, and forgiveness.

But all they would hear is that they weren’t good enough. They ate the wrong foods, they didn’t come from the right families, the prayed the wrong prayers. They kept hearing that they needed rid themselves of the sin in their lives, that they have to approach God in a certain way. They have to....have to....have to...

The bottom line was: they weren't good enough. They had to make themselves acceptable to God before they would be accepted into God's church. And the Roman church had their list of requirements that these gentile believers had to fulfill before they would be received into Christ's church.

And Paul thought he would burst a blood vessel when he heard about it.
Paul calls these requirements “The Law.” This is an important point in Lutheran theology (so, Randy, take off your ear buds), the distinction between Law and gospel.

On the surface, he’s talking about the Law of Moses. But underneath all that he’s talking about all those unnecessary demands that we heap on people.
Lutheran theology talks about three uses of the Law. Actually two, the third being rejected by the ELCIC and for good reason.

The 1st use is – and I LOVE this term: Civic Righteousness. Even the heathen can do this, Luther says. This is good governance, making sure the street lights work, garbage is collected, and your neighbour can't steal your goat. This is civil law. It's what we need to make sure we're no overrun by chaos.

The 2nd use is called the Theological Use: This is what Paul is talking about in today's passage when Paul says that “No human being will be justified in God’s sight” by deeds of the Law for through the Law comes the knowledge of sin.” That’s his way of saying that the only thing the Law can do is condemn us. That’s the Law’s job. The Law is to rub our noses in our sin, to drive us to the cross for mercy and forgiveness. Paul is saying that the more we try to obey the law, the more we fall into sin.

So, stop trying. He says. And stop making others live by the law. You have been set free from the Law. Now, live by the grace and forgiveness that God has given you as a gift. God is transforming you from the inside out. No longer do you have to worry that you fail, or if there’s sin in your life. Jesus took you sin, your failure, even your death with him to the grave and rose again in victory.

I know what you're thinking, I thought it too when I first heard this law/gospel distinction, “You mean that we DON'T have to OBEY God? That what we do doesn't matter. That we can just run off and sin as much as we want? Don't we need fences around our behaviour to make us act like Christians? If we don't obey God's Law then what makes us different then the rest of an unbelieving world? What about 'cheap grace' that ignores the cost of discipleship? ”

Well, I'd say that grace is always cheap. We will always cheapen it because the law will always condemn us. Grace is cheap for us, but grace cost Jesus everything. And the more we try to pay the cost ourselves, the more we cheapen the gift that God has given us in Jesus. The Law shows us how sinful we are. But grace sets us free, forgives us. Like the woman I was talking to last week found out, the Law puts a burden on our shoulders that we can never shrug off. Jesus takes that burden from us, and rocks us to sleep in the arms of God.

Here’s a rule of thumb to distinguish Law from Gospel. When you ever hear a preacher (or anyone) say that you as a Christian you “should do this” or “must do that.”
Or say “If you do this....then God will do that.”

Or if you hear you “need to do this” or “have to do that.” If you hear a lot of verbs, or conditions on God's love, you’re hearing Law, not gospel.
For example, I heard a preacher this past week say that “If you want to get close to God, you first need to have honour in your heart.”
Other than I have NO IDEA what 'honour in your heart' even means, he's using Law language. “You need to have...” He placing requirements on our access to God. Luther would remind this preacher that “...I cannot come to my Lord Jesus Christ by my own intelligence or power. But the Holy Spirit called me by the Gospel, enlightened me with His gifts, made me holy and kept me in the true faith, just as He calls, gathers together, enlightens and makes holy the whole Church on earth and keeps it with Jesus in the one, true faith” (Small Catechism, Third Article of the Creed).

But if you hear: you are free, you are forgiven, you are loved. Jesus died and rose again so that you may have life. Now live who God made you to be in freedom and forgiveness. That’s gospel. That's what good news sounds like.
I'm going to keep coming back to this over the next few weeks, because I think it's the key to understanding, not just the bible, but who God is.
May this be so among us. Amen.

Romans Series - Part 1 Rom 1: 1-17

“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus asks in today’s gospel. We may have our own answer to that question, but Peter blurts out with a brisk, “You are the Messiah.”

“Good answer,” Jesus seems to say. “Just don’t tell anyone.”

Like most juicy secrets, this one got out. The secret passed from person to person until it landed on the apostle Paul’s desk. It’s almost as if Jesus had asked Paul that same question, and Paul uses the first couple verses of his letter to the Romans to answer it, by way of introducing himself, saying:

“I, Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God, which God promised beforehand through his prophets in the holy scriptures, the gospel concerning his Son, who was descended from David according to the flesh and was declared to be Son of God with power according to the spirit of holiness by resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord, through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the Gentiles for the sake of his name, including yourselves who are called to belong to Jesus Christ.”

That’s quite the beginning to a letter. I certainly don't start my emails like that. It's a bit of a run-on sentence, but it doesn’t leave any doubt about who Paul thinks Jesus is. And it’s a good way to begin our journey together through Romans. Since my first official trek with Paul wasn’t so auspicious.

“How many people here hate Paul?” my professor asked, beginning his unit on Paul's writings.

About half the classes hands went up . A larger number than I expected. Although I had come to learn that Paul received mixed reviews from Christians. In some Christian circles, it's hip to hate Paul.

“Why do you hate Paul? Give me some reasons,” he said.

“He hates women, demanding that they be silent in church and submissive to their husbands,” one person shouted.

“He's a reactionary; he blesses right wing politics,” another blasted.

“He's the reason gay people are treated so badly by some Christians,” still another howled.

“He's authoritarian, tells people to be submissive to people in authority, no matter how tyrannical that authority is,” yet another yawped.

“He's anti-Semitic, a self-hating Jew who betrayed his faith, causing Christian atrocities against Jews for centuries,” another shrieked.

“He turned Jesus' message of God's kingdom of justice, peace, love, mercy, and forgiveness for the world into a mere transaction between God and the individual. He didn't get the broader social implications of Jesus' message.”

I could go on. But you get the idea. This was, of course, a more left-leaning crowd. If the class was of a more conservative bent they would find other issues with Paul to complain about:

“He's morally lax,” they might say. “Justification by faith lets people off the sin hook too easily.”

“His message of grace is too passive. The bible says we're to work out our salvation in fear and trembling.”

“He picks and chooses what he likes from the bible and the Tradition and throws the rest in the garbage.”

“He's slippery with the Old Testament, often taking passages out of context to prove a point”.

“He's too chaotic in how he structures his churches, preferring an organic system to a ordered one.”

“He sticks his nose into politics where it doesn't belong.”

Paul gets everyone mad. He's is an equal opportunity disturber.

The problem is, these people are not WRONG. Paul CAN be accused of ALL these things. On the right AND on the left. If you want I can give you chapters and verses where Paul would plead guilty to these charges.

But other problem is that these people are not RIGHT, either. Paul is more than these things. And together, as we read Romans over the next two months, we'll see how Paul's message of New Life and New Creation transcends the individual issues that people lob at his sandals.

We'll see that Paul's message has so many layers to it that we need to look at the whole of this theology to understand what he has to say to us. His message is greater than the chapters and verses of his writings.

We'll see that he takes time to build his argument over numerous chapters, unfolding, almost like a good novel, taking the reader through asides and down backstories, thickening his message until it comes together in a story of good news for the whole world.

One thing you can say about Paul is that his message will not fit on a bumper sticker. Reading Romans is more like death through 1000 cuts, so the reader can rise again, a new person.

Last year when I was in Mexico, I spent a morning reading through Paul's letters. Sunning myself on a Mexican beach with the apostle Paul was an exercise in cognitive dissonance.

Paul was writing from prison. I was at a 5 star hotel with people waiting on me.

Paul used every ounce of his physical and mental energy to proclaim good news to a hurting world. I was lazing under an umbrella with a drink in my hand.

Paul described a different reality than the one the world gave, where prayer and sacrifice stood centre stage. I was luxuriating in the world's pleasures, suppressing any guilt that tried to emerge.

And as I kept reading, I found Paul's voice increasingly unsettling. But in a good way. Being unsettled is not necessarily a bad thing. Especially when Paul is doing the unsettling.

I came to know that Paul understands that we human beings fail in living how God wants us to live, and he calls us on it. 

Paul knows that we hurt ourselves and each other. He knows that a life of faith is not one big climb up to the mountain top, but that a life of faith is a series of fits and starts, of climbing and falling, of faithfulness and betrayal, of wounding and being wounded. Paul has no illusions about what resides in the human heart.

Which is why, at the heart of his message is that we come into a right relationship with God not through any good works, proper prayers, moral behaviour, or church going. But we come into a right relationship with God by God's grace through faith.

And even that faith is a gift. Some say that it’s not even OUR faith that saves us, but it's JESUS’ faith that is given to us so that could be saved.

Paul reminds us that faith comes by hearing God's Word, through the power of the Holy Spirit, who “calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes us holy” as Luther's catechism says, NOT through any effort on our part.

We don't accept God's grace. We can only receive it. We don't choose to be God's people. God chooses us. We are not in the driver's seat of our salvation. God is.

I don’t know about you, but I find that liberating. When I first heard that message it was like I could breathe for the first time. That’s why I can stand with Paul when he says:

“...I am not ashamed of the gospel; it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed through faith for faith; as it is written, ‘The one who is righteous will live by faith.’”

This means that we don't have to be perfect. This means we have the FREEDOM to live how God wants us to live without fear of failure. Because we WILL fail. We WILL fall short of God's standards. ALL of us. And that's okay. Perfection is not the goal. Simply being God's child is Paul's gospel aim.

If I can sum up Paul's message it would be this: Because of what God has done in Jesus, you are forgiven. You are free. Now live in the forgiveness and freedom that God wants for you.

Maybe we can put Paul on a bumper sticker after all. But we probably shouldn't. Maybe what's being asked of us is to spend time with Paul, listening to him, arguing with him, wrestling with what he has to say, and exploring what his message of new life in Jesus means for us today.

He may infuriate you. He may make you want to throw your bible across the room. But his message – God's message – will set you free. God’s message HAS set us free.

May this be so among us. Amen.