Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Uncovering Joy

Luke 15:11-32, Luke 15:8-10
June 23, 2013

My sermon today was a story that--for multiple reasons--I chose not to write down .  In the bulletin, I had a typo that said Luke 5:8-10 (not 15:8-10) which is the story of Jesus calling Simon and telling him he would be "catching people" (sing together everybody..."I will make you fishers of men, fishers of men..."  Now, if you have ever preached and heard the wrong scripture being read, there is a slight moment of panic.  But as mistakes go, it was as perfect as possible...setting up for my beach story, and maybe just a little bit of "catching". 

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Life After Rules

sermon by Torin Eikler
Luke 7:36-50   Galatians 2:15-21




This story of Jesus’ dinner at Simon’s house is full of valuable lessons layered in there one on top of another.  As is the case with the other narratives in the gospels, someone seems to be a master of packing things in there.  I only wish that I could get as much into my car for vacation.  But then, I would probably have just as much difficulty getting it all back out as we do when we try to unpack stories like this one. 


One key that I have found to unraveling this one is to look at the two people that join Jesus in the scene - the Pharisee and the woman. 


On one side of the picture we have Simon.  He seems to have been well respected, at least fairly well off, and since he was a successful Pharisee he probably did a pretty good job of living righteously under Jewish law.  One the other side, we have the woman (who I’ll call Mary since the parallel anointing story in Matthew names her as Mary Magdalene).  She was probably not so wealthy despite the fact that she possessed an alabaster jar.  She certainly wasn’t well respected in the community.  And, her life clearly would not have fit in the category of righteousness.


Everything that happens – everything that Jesus says – is based on a comparison of these two.


 
The first thing that comes to mind – the most obvious one – is the question of hospitality and gratitude.  The righteous Simon was pleased to invite Jesus to join him for a meal which was entirely in keeping with the traditions of hospitality of the time.  And yet he fulfilled only the letter of the law, providing none of the niceties that would have gone along with a true welcome.  So when he showed his disapproval of Mary’s actions, Jesus objects – not only calling attention to Simon’s lack of real hospitality but also naming his lack of gratitude for all the blessing and privilege that he enjoyed.  Mary’s love, he said, showed that she had been forgiven much.  Simon’s lack of concern, on the other hand, was evidence that he had experienced very little forgiveness (probably because he had never thought to ask for it).


And so we come to another layer - the tension between righteousness and forgiveness which Alan Culpepper describes very well....


“Does love lead to forgiveness, or is the ability to love the result of being forgiven?”, he asks. “Jesus accepted the woman’s expression of love as a sign that she had been forgiven much.  Love is the natural response of the forgiven, but the capacity to love is directly related to the ability to receive grace, forgiveness, and love.  Simon’s problem was not his conduct but his attitude and self-understanding….  Because Simon thought of himself as pious and righteous, he had no idea what it meant to be forgiven and no awareness of his own need for forgiveness.  He loved little because he had experienced so little of God’s love.  [And] because Simon did not recognize his need for forgiveness, he excluded himself from God’s grace.  On the other hand, because the woman knew she was [imperfect], she could receive God’s forgiveness.”[1]

It is not that righteousness and forgiveness cannot go together … or that we cannot live righteously and also be forgiven.  Neither Culpepper nor Jesus is saying that.  But there is a pitfall there that needs to be avoided because there are two ways to interpret “righteousness.”  As Jesus taught it, righteousness meant nurturing healthy, whole relationships.  But religious authorities often seem to understand it as doing what is necessary to keep ourselves morally “pure.”  If we make Simon’s mistake and try to follow a set of rules, then we fool ourselves into believing that we can fulfill righteousness on our own if only we can control our lives well enough. 

Another step deeper – the issue of control.


I just finished reading “The Shack.”  It is the story of Mack, a man who is suffering from what he calls “the Great Sadness,” who feels like his life has spun out of control, and who has begun to question the existence (or at least the “goodness”) of God.  The reason for all of this is the death of his youngest daughter who was kidnapped and murdered by a serial killer.  That’s reason enough to feel angry and betrayed by God, but as it happens, Missy was taken from the family’s campsite while Mack was rescuing a son who had been trapped under a canoe.  So, Mack also feels like it was all his fault – that if he had only made different decisions or controlled the situation differently, none of it would have happened.

Two years later, Mack receives and mysterious invitation to travel to the cabin where Missy was killed and meet with someone calling himself Papa – which is his wife’s name for God.  After some struggle, he makes up his mind to go and see what it’s all about.  He finds himself face to face with the three persons of the Trinity, and even though he is seminary trained, he quickly finds that he has very many mistaken ideas about this God.

I picked up the book because Linda recommended it to me after my Pentecost sermon where I told the story of the church from the point of view of the Spirit.  It reminded her of the way William Young developed the three personalities of the Trinity.  And I found it to be a good read.  But, I am sharing it with you because of this conversation between Mack and Sarayu (the name of the Holy Spirit in the book).  Sarayu begins….
[2]“My goodness, you didn’t think you could live the righteousness of God on your own, did you?”

“Well, I thought so, sorta,” [Mack replied].  “But you gotta admit, rules and principles are simpler than relationships….  You know how truly grateful I am for everything, but you’ve dumped a whole lot in my lap this weekend.  What do I do when I get back?  What do you expect of me now?” …

“Let me answer that by asking you a question.  Why do you think we came up with the Ten Commandments?”

“I suppose, at least I have been taught, that it’s a set of rules that you expected humans to obey in order to live righteously in your good graces.”

“If that were true, which it is not, then how many do you think lived righteously enough to enter our good graces?”

“Not very many, if people are like me,” Mack observed.

"Actually, we wanted you to give up trying to be righteous on your own.”

“Are you saying I don’t have to follow the rules?”

“Yes.  In Jesus you are not under any law.  All things are lawful.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Mackenzie, … trying to keep the law is actually … a way of keeping control.”

“Is that why we like the law so much – to give us some control?” asked Mack.

“It is much worse than that,” resumed [The Spirit].  “It grants you the power to judge others and feel superior to them.  You believe you are living to a higher standard than those you judge.  Enforcing rules … is a vague attempt to create certainty out of uncertainty ….  Rules cannot bring freedom; they only have the power to accuse.”

Ultimately, this scene seems to be about “letting go and letting God.”  You can tell the way that I use those finger quotes that I’m not entirely comfortable with that phrase.  It seems like people use it mostly as a way of denying or refusing their own responsibility.  They say those words, take themselves out of the center of their own lives, and sit idly by and watching as things happen around them – watching and not engaging on the pretext that it is all up to God.


That is definitely not what I mean when I use those words.  Letting go and letting God is not a ticket to passively wander through the world as life goes by.  For me, it means that we need to let go of our need to control the future – our need to decide how things should turn out and then manage every detail that we can so that everything turns out the way we planned.  That is what we need to turn over to God.  As hard as it is … as scary as it may seem … as insecure as it makes us feel, we need to turn over the future – our future – to God.  We need to let it go and trust that God has a broader perspective and will lead us where we need to be.

We also need to be intensely involved in the present.  That means letting go of the past as well as the future.  We can learn a lot from the past.  Sometimes, we can even catch a glimpse of where God’s plan is headed if we read it the right way.  But mostly we don’t.  Mostly when we look back all we see are the mistakes we have made and the failures of others.  That brings on guilt and judgment that only lead us farther away from God, and that is not what God wants.  God wants … God deeply desires restoration for us and for all of creation.

 
And now we have reached the foundation of our story.  I think that, at its deepest level, this story is about restoration and the love of God.  I think that because this is the point where the comparison between our two characters stops being a contrast.  It is not as if Jesus wants to see restoration for Mary and not for Simon … quite the opposite.  All of Jesus’ teaching … all of the comparisons … all of the chiding seems to have been aimed at helping Simon realize what he was missing. 

Mary had found the love and forgiveness of God.  She came to Jesus in gratitude, and he publicly proclaimed that she had been forgiven.  In a very real sense, that act was like a resurrection for her.  She who had been cast out of the community of believers because of her sins against the law, she was now forgiven those sins and should be welcomed back into the fold – restored both to God and to the community.

I don’t know what happened to Simon after his dinner guests left, but I like to imagine that he changed….  That he changed radically thanks to the grace offered around that table.  Now, “Unless we see something of ourselves in the character of [Simon], we are so blind to our own need that we have failed to hear the story.”[3]  And if we have failed to hear the story, then we may remain stuck – as Simon was – stuck in the pitfall of our own pride and our need for control.

God’s unfailing love is always surrounding us, guiding us, and working in our lives to bring restoration.  I like to imagine that we all change every time we receive that gift, because once our lives have been touched by an experience of God’s grace, God’s love becomes the controlling force in our lives, and the gratitude of the forgiven is also the source of new life.  Ultimately, that is what salvation is all about.

May it be so.




[1] Culpepper, R. Alan. “The Gospel of Luke: Introduction, Commentary, and Reflections” in The New Interpreter’s Bible: A Commentary in Twelve Volumes, Volume IX (Abingdon Press, Nashville) 1995.  172-3.
[2] Young, William P. The Shack: Where Tragedy Confronts Eternity. (Windblown Media, Los Angeles). 2007. 198-203.
[3] Culpepper, 172.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Cultivating Compassion


sermon by Carrie Eikler
1 Kings 17:17-24 and Luke 7:11-17
June 9 2013


 

In the movie Dan in Real Life, funny man Steve Carrel is a widower and father of 3 girls.  He writes a syndicated advice column called Dan in Real Life and seems to have the perfect advice for everyone’s problems but his own.  Not least of these is his 14 year old daughter’s rush to maturity in dress, attitude, and relationships.  On a weekend on the Rhode Island Coast with aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents, Dan discovers his daugther’s boyfriend has snuck all the way up from New Jersey to be with her. Dan puts the love sick boy in a car to head home in spite of the young man’s profession of love for Dan’s daughter.  In his frustration  Dan says “ you are too young to feel love”

to which the boy says “Love isn’t a feeling, Mr. Burns.  It’s an ability”
Dan scoffs at the immaturity of this young man.  But then, later, comes to use this wisdom in his own defense.

 

Love isn’t a feeling.  It’s an ability.

 

It seems to me that
much that has to do with the life of faith--
if not life in general—
are less feelings
than abilities.

 
Compassion, for one.

 
Compassion, as Dan’s young friend might also say,
isn’t a feeling.
Compassion is an ability.

 

Actually I should correct myself,  compassion is a feeling,
but the sort of feeling that isn’t satisfied if it
stays tucked up nice and cozy in your soul
with a nice blanket and a cup of tea

 Compassion is an ability that requires so much
of ourselves…all of ourselves.
Compassion tries our mental state, and physical energy, our time,
our emotions.
Compassion is an ability we want in others and hope for in ourselves.


At the heart of Jesus’ ministry is this very ability.
Not the individual abilities to raise the dead, or turn water into wine
or a little bit of bread into a whole feast.
 
Rather the miracle stories, like the one we read today point to
the power of Christ’s compassion above all else.
And I have to say that this gives me hope.

 Because God knows I can’t perform miracles.
None of us can.

 
But we can practice compassion.
We can hone this innate ability to care for one another,
feel for one another
and while we may
not raise the dead or heal the sick as Jesus did,
we will impart the loving presence of Christ,
which will bring healing in its own, mysterious way.

 In fact, I think so much about the Christian walk
is less about being part of some club,
or saying you believe the right things,
but more a commitment to hone and practice
the divine abilities placed within us.
 
Christianity is a practice
And compassion is one of the most important practices
we take on when we choose to follow Christ.

 In Hebrew, the word compassion and womb has
the same root.  In some way, we can say
that compassion is womb love.
It is seeing another as a sibling, one that was
shaped and formed and grown and birthed
from the same womb.

The German write Dorothee Soelle emphasizes this idea by
telling a story of a rabbi who
asked his students how do you to recognize the moment
hen night ends an day begins

 “Is it when, from a great distance, you can tell a dog from a sheep?” one student asked.
No. said the rabbi.
“Is it when rom a great distance, you can tell a date palm from a fig tree?  another asked.
No.  said the rabbi.
“Then when is it?” the students asked.
The rabbi replied, “It is when you look into the face of any human creature and see your brother or your sister there.  Until then, night is still with us.”

 When we look into the face of any human creature and not see

            a homeless man, a mother on welfare, an immigrant
             someone living with AIDS, a conservative, a liberal
             a peacenik, a solider, a homosexual, a redneck

But when we see a brother or sister.  Or a daughter or son,
            we have begun cultivating the art of compassion.

 
But as you can guess, this isn’t easy.  I mean, if I were to look how brothers
love each other, we’d be putting everybody in
time out, forcing apologies out of everyone, and sending the world to their rooms.

But with practice and awareness and
bringing our consciousness to Christ’s compassion
that innate ability can rise within us.

 

Tex Sample, a storyteller and seminary professor, told a story at the beginning of one of our Sunday School sessions.  (If I could replicate his southern accent it would make it all the better…)
He talked about a young man dying of AIDs in a hospital
When it was clear this man was going to die soon,
the hospital staff rushed to find a pastor or chaplain who
would pray for the man.
When they found a visiting pastor, the pastor would not
come into the room, but stood outside the room
and shouted a prayer asking God’s forgiveness for this man’s terrible sins.
And he turned on his heel and left the hospital
The staff were beside themselves and tried to find someone who could be
pastor to the man.
They found a theological student who was doing an internship
and when they told her she went to the room as quickly as she could
She rushed in through the door, went over to the man
and sat down on the bed next to him.
She stayed with him the last hours of his life.
He did die that night.
Later someone asked her,  “What did you do?”
She answered
We prayed.  I read the Bible.  We sang songs.
But mostly, mostly I just told him how much God loved him.

 
Compassion is the ability to show people
that God loves them.
Whether through word, or action, or
Songs or touch.
Marching in the streets or sitting beside someone who is dying.

 

But the tricky thing about compassion is that
there is no formula for giving it.
It’s not: one part patience, three parts humility, and two parts courage.

 
Because everyone we meet, every situation we face
has context. There is a relationship.
How we enter into compassionate relationship with a dying man
is different than how we struggle to find compassion
     for the pastor who showed him none
How you practice compassion with a family member
is different than how you practice compassion to the checkout girl at Kroger.


Compassion, like any other art, or discipline, or ability
needs preparation in order to bloom into its fullest potential

I have appreciated a gift that Cindy Lewellen gave me

CDs of guided meditations by Sharon Salzburg.

Salzburg spends a lot of time on compassion,

which she calls lovingkindness.


I don’t know if it is because so much of my life in these past few years

have been living “outwardly”—

raising children, pastoring a congregation, parenting groups, volunteer projects

but I have been thankful to have times to

have someone guide me in going internally.

 

Because I know as much as I may talk about compassion,

even compassion as an ability,

it isn’t something that just happens.

Compassion and lovingkindess has to be

cultivated, and grown, and remembered

and strengthened within.

 

So I would like to spend a few minutes

and guide you in a meditation that you can

take with you to help you cultivate

compassion as a daily practice.

 

I will try the  I can invoke the soothing presence of

Sharon Salzburg in this lovingkindness meditation

 

Lovingkindness meditation

sit comfortably

close your eyes

in this practice we don’t pay attention to the feeling of the breath

as you might in other types of meditation

but instead we allow certain phrases to emerge from the heart

which are the object of concentration

 

These phrases are hopes we have for the betterment of our own lives

Traditional phrases are things like,

may I be safe, be happy, be healthy, live with ease

I will be using these four phrases as I speak,

but you can substitute them for any you feel is appropriate

 

The phrases are meant to be big enough or general enough that its like a

gift we can offer ourselves not just today

and ultimately offer to all of life, the boundlessness of life

 

May I be safe, be happy, be healthy, live with ease

Take a moment and let one or multiple phrases rise within you

that have meaning 

---

Gather all your attention behind each phrase at a time

And, if you haven’t begun to already, focus them on yourself

Say your phrases silently one at a time

May I be safe, be happy, be healthy live with ease, whatever you choose

 

(silence)

 


Then think of a friend, first friend that comes to mind

Bring them here

get an image of them
say their name to yourself,

get a feeling for their presence and offer your phrases of lovingkindness to them

the things you wish for yourself

May you be safe, be happy, be healthy, live with ease

whatever your phrases are

(long silence)

 

 

Think of someone you know who is not doing so well right now

Someone who is frightened or lonely or ill.  Bring that person here.

Offer your phrases of lovingkindess to them (silence)

 

And then someone you barely know

checkout person, dry cleaner, attendant at a gas station 

you may not know them, but try to recall a face. 

Offer your phrases to them.

 Be safe, be happy, be healthy, live with ease.

(long silence)

 

Then all things everywhre, all people creatures, systems,

known and unknown near and far. 

May all things be safe, be happy, be healthy, live with ease

 

When you feel ready, you can open your eyes and relax

 

--

Take this spirit of LovingKindness into your practice of being a Christian this week

See if it can help you uncover your innate ability of compassion, as Luke 6:36 invites us

be compassionate, as your Father in Heaven is compassionate.

 

--

 

 

 

Sunday, June 2, 2013

The Elephant in the Room

sermon by Torin Eikler
Luke 7:1-10     Galatians 1:1-12



Galatians is one of my favorite of Paul’s letters to his far-flung congregations.  It has the section comparing the fruits of the Spirit to the fruits of the Flesh, which has been powerful and inspiring to me as I struggle to work through the anger and impatience that have, at times, seemed to overwhelm me.  It echoes Jesus’ call to reconciliation and forgiveness in the hopes of restoring communities and relationships with gentleness.  And in this letter, when Paul speaks of the freedom that comes freely from grace rather than from the impossible task of living the righteousness of God … I actually feel like I understand it.  That gives me hope.

But the letter starts off on quite a different note.  Paul usually begins his writings with a greeting followed by some words of thanks to God for the congregation he is addressing and an expression of his confidence in them.  This time, he lets go with a rebuke that comes to a head with a powerful curse.  Not a good way for things to start.

And yet, the body of the letter does not show anger.  Despite the harsh words, Paul does not seem to be raging at the people.  What he does express is his disappointment, his frustration, and his worry that these gentile believers are being led astray by other missionaries who have missed the heart of the gospel by focusing too much on details.  (The particular detail in question is the need for believers to be circumcised in order to fulfill Jewish righteousness… which I wouldn’t know if it weren’t for other scholars who spend a lot of time focusing on the details of scripture.  But, they assure me that it is so.)  Paul disagrees quite strongly with that requirement, and accuses them, basically, of being blind to good news of Christ’s grace.

It reminds me a bit of the Hindu story about six blind men who thought themselves very wise and knowledgeable until, one day, they got into an argument.The object of their dispute was the elephant. Now, since each was blind, none had ever seen that mighty beast of whom so many tales are told. So, to satisfy their minds and settle the dispute, they decided to go and seek out an elephant.

They hired a young guide and set out early one morning in single file along the forest track, each placing his hands on the back of the man in front. It was not long before they came to a forest clearing where a huge bull elephant, quite tame, was standing contemplating his menu for the day.

The six blind men became quite excited; at last they would satisfy their minds. Thus it was that the men took turns to investigate the elephant's shape and form.

As all six men were blind, none of them could see the whole elephant and approached the elephant from different directions. After encountering the elephant, each man proclaimed in turn:

'O my brothers,' the first man at once cried out, 'it is as sure as I am wise that this elephant is like a great mud wall baked hard in the sun.'

'Now, my brothers,' the second man exclaimed with a cry of dawning recognition, 'I can tell you what shape this elephant is - he is exactly like a spear.'

The others smiled in disbelief.

'Why, dear brothers, do you not see,' said the third man -- 'this elephant is very much like a rope,' he shouted.

'Ha, I thought as much,' the fourth man declared excitedly, 'This elephant much resembles a serpent.'

The others snorted their contempt.

'Good gracious, brothers,' the fifth man called out, 'even a blind man can see what shape the elephant resembles most. Why he's mightily like a fan.'

At last, it was the turn of the sixth old fellow and he proclaimed, 'This sturdy pillar, brothers' mine, feels exactly like the trunk of a great areca palm tree.'

Of course, no one believed him.

Their curiosity satisfied, they all linked hands and followed the guide back to the village. Each now had his own opinion, firmly based on his own experience, of what an elephant is really like. For after all, each had felt the elephant for himself and knew that he was right! And so indeed he was. For depending on how the elephant is seen, each blind man was partly right, though all were in the wrong.

 
Of course, we tend to assume that Paul had the whole picture and it was the missionaries who had the wrong end of the … tail?  But, before we judge them too harshly, we should probably look at ourselves.  I, for one, am a detail person.  I may head into any given situation in life with a fairly good understanding of the larger picture, but once I get going, I often get lost in the details.  And more than once I have gotten so caught up in following the little things through to their end that I find myself completely off-track when I finally step back again for a more holistic perspective.

I don’t know if any of you have experienced the same thing, but I have noticed that our society, as a whole, and many of the smaller groups that we are part of quite often seem to get distracted by pesky little details.  Take, for example, the discussion among scholars of the story we read from Luke today.  Each person seems to focus of one aspect of the story and make that particular piece the center of its meaning.  I suspect that they all see things differently in the light of their own life and experience, and so we get this “sturdy pillar” from E. Louise Williams:

Authority and power have a primary place in the story of Jesus and the centurion; in fact authority is a recurring theme throughout Luke’s Gospel.

Roman centurions were accustomed to trading on their authority and power.  They could command their servants and order those under them to do whatever they wished.  They could enhance their own honor by associating with important people.  And when they did a favor for someone, they knew they could ask for one in return.  It was the culture of the day, and they had a place of authority in it.

The centurion’s first approach to Jesus regarding his sick servant was exactly what one would expect in such a society.  The centurion had been generous to the Jews in Capernaum and had even financed their new synagogue.  Now, in return, he asked their leader to approach Jesus on his behalf.  It was an honor to Jesus to have such important people make the request and to have them name the centurion as someone worthy of Jesus’ favor.

But then, just when the centurion was ready to receive a home visit from someone who would enhance his prestige and who had a reputation for healing – he sent a second unexpected message.  First, the centurion confessed his own unworthiness.  Second, he asked Jesus not to come to his house…. 

The centurion took the lower place, and Jesus praised him for it.  This Roman gentile had grasped something that Jesus’ own disciples were having difficulty understanding….   The centurion glimpsed an authority that was like no other authority he’d seen, and came to faith without ever meeting Jesus or hearing him speak.[1]

 And this “rope” from Jeannine Brown:

Centurions show up rather frequently in the Gospels and in Acts. This in itself is not surprising, since centurions would have been a part of the Roman occupation force in Judea and Galilee in the first century. What is surprising is that these representatives of Roman occupation are portrayed in quite positive ways.

The centurion in Luke 7:1-10 fits this surprising profile. He is a Gentile (and presumably Roman, although not all members of the Roman army were ethnically Roman), who seeks Jesus out for the healing of his slave. This oppressor of the Jewish people initiates a conversation with a Jewish healer. He sends Jewish elders to speak on his behalf to Jesus to prove that he has been a patron of the Jewish people. Then he sends his friends to keep Jesus from coming to his house, expressing confidently and with an analogy from his own role in the Roman army that this Jewish healer, Jesus, is able heal from a distance….

Somehow, it seems fitting in this surprising story that Jesus himself is surprised and amazed at the trust this centurion demonstrates. He is surprised to find faith in a centurion that surpasses what he has seen in anyone from Israel. And we can learn something from Jesus’ own surprise at the specter of an enemy soldier proving to be a model of faith for the people of God.[2]

And this “fan” from Carol Cook Moore:

Healing is not a result that can be bartered any more than can increasing one’s patience, joy, or charity. The work of healing is a sacramental work through which the power of life coming from death interfaces with the brokenness of body, mind, or spirit. We cannot explain healing any more than we can explain the presence of the risen Christ in the breaking of bread and the drinking of wine. So what does it mean to trust that Christ is present especially when there is great evidence to the contrary? You see, the Centurion demonstrated allegiance and faith in God. Yet this is not why the servant is healed. On the contrary, it is the gift Jesus finds in the midst of being interrupted on his way somewhere. It is the example that he can lift up for those who are watching and listening as the power of God marches through human barriers that allow us to think we do not need to help someone because they are not one of us, they are on the outside or they are undeserving. [3]

 
All three of these commentators are right in their own way, and the details they have pulled out are important.  The story is about authority.  It is about including people from all nations in the grace and love of God – even our enemies.  And it is about the free gift of healing and life that comes without a price or any expectations.  Yet, while all of them are “partly right, [all are also] in the wrong” – not wrong in that there is no truth to what they are saying, but wrong in that they have missed the larger picture.

At the heart of this story is the good news of God’s new way of living, and it includes all three of those pieces … and more.  What it tells us (and this is, I suppose, my own interpretation) is that in the realm of God all people are equal and equally welcome to share in the freely-offered, live-giving grace and love of God.

All people are equal and equally welcome to share in the freely-offered, live-giving grace and love of God.

 
That’s the gospel that Paul preached to the people of Galatia, and it is the freedom of that message that they were being urged to give up.  And to give it up in favor of a view that said reconciliation and grace had to be earned through acts of righteousness according to human rules.  I think, in that light, it’s no wonder that Paul would be so worried about his friends and so upset with those misguided missionaries.

What I do wonder is what Paul would think of us … and I say this without any sense of judgment at all.  Are we a people who get so caught up in the details of living out our lives together that we lose sight of the hope and the promise at its heart?  Or are we holding onto that promise of freedom, reconciliation, and grace?  Do we follow the path of worry and performance into the cul-de-sac?  Or do we trust God’s love and step forward in faith to ask for God’s healing word?

I think those are important questions to ask, especially as we continue the process of working out the vision and priorities that will guide us and the structure that we think will support that mission.



[1] E. Louise Williams, “Living by the Word,” Christian Century, May 29, 2013. 20.
[2] Jeannine K. Brown, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1678
[3] Carol A. Cook Moore, http://www.goodpreacher.com/shareit/readreviews.php?cat=47