Geoffrey Piper's sermon on September 1, 2013
Amphicar
of America, the West German built boat-car, utilized an English Triumph engine.
Truly an international vehicle, these cars were produced from 1961 to 1969. The
majority of the cars were imported to the United States. The Amphicar drives up and down
the road, turns at the intersection, parks at the A&W Root Beer drive in…
But it also sachets, calm as you please, down the beach and into the water, and
floats like a duck.
Christianity is not
merely a religious faith that takes our flesh and blood and adds the refining
touches of good sense and good manners… It is not just a stylish touch-up, but a new creation, introducing God’s own
indwelling presence, God’s Spirit, into the heart of our being. True religion,
from the Christian perspective, is one that recreates us as human embodiments
of divine wisdom and compassion.
“Increase
in us true religion…” No matter what religious tradition we come from, we could
probably agree that religion that genuinely expresses the true nature, purpose
and power of God should be increased among us.
[We’re
right, I believe, to question religious expressions that seem to be mere extensions
of human pride, self-centeredness, intolerance, and which foster attitudes of
superiority. We’re right to challenge anyone’s religious rationales for
violence, or that lead toward derision of those considered to be infidels or “outsiders.” If, as Christians believe, there a God of
love, mercy, and compassion, then we can confidently pray to God, asking for
more of these traits to be manifest in and among us.]
This premise might help us to
understand what today’s lessons are showing us.
Jeremiah is asking the nation
of Israel, for rhetorical effect--like a parent who has just caught a child
doing something really stupid--“What were you thinking?” He describes them as
people who have pursued worthless aims, and who, in the process, have become
worthless themselves. It’s a pretty harsh indictment.
Jeremiah traces a vivid
image, comparing two different sources of water necessary for survival in that
dry area. Jeremiah describes the providence of God as a “fountain of living
water,” which the people of his day have exchanged for Gods of their own
invention. By comparison, the people’s misdirected devotion is compared to cisterns
the people have built for themselves: flawed, cracked, and unfit to fulfill
their intended purpose. The agonized appeal of God is “Why would you forsake
the real thing--the God who delivered, saved, and provided for you-- for a
false, ridiculous substitute, and one that doesn’t work? Why would you adopt a
false faith after having experienced my care at first hand?”
The writer of the letter to
the Hebrews similarly wants the people to offer God the real deal. He enjoins
the integrity of right belief and good conduct. The basis for both right belief
and good conduct is a vibrant, deep reliance on God’s presence and power. True
religion must be rooted in this larger life of the Spirit, and not in our own
natural preferences for self-serving conveniences and conventions. Not my will,
but thine…
And that brings us to Jesus’
seemingly inexplicable behavior as a Sabbath dinner guest at the home of a
ruling Pharisee. To any of us, it is hard to see anything but the most
preposterously discourteous chastising of both his hosts and his fellow guests.
Which of us would ever try to publicly challenge a person of high standing in
the community about who he or she has chosen to invite to dinner? And then to
turn on the other guests and presume to correct their behavior as they choose
their seats? What on earth is he thinking?
As I have thought about this
passage through the week, I have concluded that he has one overriding motive.
He wants his colleagues to understand the truth… the truth about God and about
themselves. He simply won’t settle for honoring lesser conventions of
politeness or regard for social status as though these were the ultimate values
of life.
First off, whenever the New
Testament writers speak of the Pharisees, it is a kind of shorthand device. The
readers or listeners will know that these are the contemporaries of Jesus who
were most scrupulous about teaching and keeping every detail of an
ever-expanding set of laws, ceremonial regulations and duties. Naturally, many
of those who strove most assiduously to fulfill all these rules were
susceptible to a kind of self-congratulatory smugness about their own
righteousness, and the comparative shortcomings of all the lesser, “little
people” around them who lacked their religious achievements. The peril of this
disposition was an inordinately high self-regard. Jesus was continually in conflict
with them as he tried to get them to recognize the merciful compassion of a God
who longs to gather all his children--wise or simple, secure or struggling,
conspicuously virtuous or mindful of their awful failings—back to himself.
So it is against this
backdrop of the self-congratulatory self-sufficiency among many of his
listeners that Jesus tries to get them to see deeper truths about God.
“What if,” he proposes, “What
if, instead of simply gathering to celebrate and share with your high status,
like-minded, affluent and socially respected peers… What if you opened your
hearts to recognize the humanity, dignity, the longing for recognition and good
things shared in all your neighbors? What if you saw with God’s eyes and
God’s heart, and deliberately included those who had no resources to pay back
your favor? Knowing the power of generous hospitality, what if you made it a
point, as God does, to invite those seen by conventional worldly culture as
weak, as awkward, as needy or flawed? What if, instead of merely celebrating
all the good things you have received along with the others in your club, you
decided, like your Heavenly Father, to be compassionate and helpful in using
all those good things?
In short, he asks, “Have you
ever considered how your religious and social lives and commitments would look
if, in your hearts, the love of God was primary, rooted and flourishing there?”
I don’t think that Luke’s
portrait of Jesus is of a censorious scold. This is one who is trying to bring
the faithful people of his day to see how much better they can be, how much
finer, purer, and more true to God they can be…
if they will only see beyond
their human pride and self-serving customs to God’s love for His world. God’s
way is higher than our ways. Jesus wants us to join him, focused on God’s
priorities. He wants to make whatever changes we must make—turning to God, humbling
ourselves before God, opening our hearts to God, seeking God. And out of that
sincere devotion, we can begin to obey God’s directives to love, to share, to
give, to serve.
Yes, we’re to love our
families, friends, and near neighbors, and in doing so, to show the world an
example of our loyalty. Jesus calls us further: welcome the
stranger, reconcile with your enemy; show compassion whenever we have the power
to influence another for the better. God calls us beyond natural affection.
Yes, we’re to take pride in
our achievements and to enjoy the comforts God has provided us. But
Jesus calls us further: to see the undeveloped potential in others who
have fallen short; to see the image of God in the poor, the disfigured, the
sick and suffering. God calls us beyond mere comfort.
Yes, we’re to use our minds,
our educations, and the advantages we have been given to build good careers and
solid reputations. Yes, we are to celebrate and enjoy the fellowship we have
along the way with those who make the journey with us. But in God’s heart there is more
to us, and more for us than this. That
is what Jesus is trying to get us all to see.
We are to be the loved and forgiven exemplars of faith, hope and love to a fractured, fearful, darkened and confused world. And so we pray, increase that true religion in every one of us, even if it puzzles us, feels odd, and troubles us sometimes. Amen.
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