Kit 8
A Lectionary Resource for Pentecost 21 to Pentecost 26 & Christ the King 2005
By Martin Stewart
Introduction
Off and on over the last ten years I have subscribed to the Media-Com preaching notes prepared by William Willimon. What is useful about them is that he includes a written sermon – offering a way that the text is applied rather than a collection of notes. I have sought to do the same this time. Sometimes I found myself using more of a Willimon sermon than I would have liked – but mostly, it is the way that he had developed an idea that is the spark that has got me going.
When I have made use of the work of a scholar I have tried to declare that, and if you have access to that work you will see that the person makes more sense than I do. Otherwise, the material is “borrowed” from the wide variety of sources that have informed my thinking and awakened my imagination. There is nothing new under the sun!
The latter parables of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel that make up the majority of readings I have engaged with in these sermons are such compelling themes – mostly judgment. They really have such a life of their own that they lose something when we preach them. Jesus didn’t do a lot of interpreting of his parables; I think we ought to be careful with them as well. If there is a word of judgment for people it may be better to let his words linger with people than to clutter them with your own “stuff”. For the parables are also ones of grace – Jesus had a way of speaking judgment in such a gracious way. There were plenty of barbs on the arrows he let fly, but there was no poison – be careful with his words! Generally speaking, I don’t believe people are converted or convicted by words of judgment, but by their encounter with the sheer magnitude of God’s grace. Remember what follows in Matthew (but not the lectionary), Jesus doesn’t leave us in condemnation, rather, he proceeds to take the judgment upon himself.
God bless you as you preach your way to Advent.
- Martin Stewart
October 9 Pentecost 21
Exodus 32:1-14, Ps 106:1-6, 19-23, Phil 4:1-9, Matthew 22:1-14
October 16 Pentecost 22
Exodus 33:12-23, Ps 99, 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10, Matthew 22:15-22
October 23 Pentecost 23
Deuteronomy 34:1-12, Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17, 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8, Matthew 22:34-46
October 30 Pentecost 24
Joshua 3:7-17, Psalm 107:1-7, 33-37, 1 Thessalonians 2:9-13, Matthew 23:1-12
November 6 Pentecost 25
Joshua 24:1-3a, 14-25, Psalm 78:1-7, 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18, Matthew 25:1-13
November 13 Pentecost 26
Judges 4:1-7, Psalm 123, 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11, Matthew 25:14-30
November 20 Reign of Christ
Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24, Psalm 100, Ephesians 1:15-23, Matthew 25:31-46
Sunday 9 October (Pentecost 21)
Exodus 32:1-14, Ps 106:1-6, 19-23, Phil 4:1-9, Matthew 22:1-14
Matthew 22:1-14 We are called – there is a response to make.
By using images and story-lines from the everyday life of the people he was talking to, Jesus painted for them a new picture of what God was like – a radical picture, yet also a true picture. And, whatever the subject matter of the parables, and whatever we might draw from the parables, they are always earthed in the grace of God. Whenever we listen to the parables what should stand out is God’s loving nature. Even the parables that focus on the judgment of God like the banquet parable we have heard this morning, are cloaked with the language of grace.
In the parable of the wedding banquet, everything is handed out. The king puts on a banquet and invites the guests – no one has anything to do but simply accept the invitation and come along to the party. Yet, people refuse, and even turn on the one who is giving them everything. Why has the situation developed for there to even need to be judgment here? How come the one who has given everything for them is treated with such contempt? Why do people reject God’s incredible generosity? How come the people who know that God has been the one to graciously lead them out of slavery, reject their deliverer in favour of the golden calf? In slavery they longed for freedom, God brought about the realization of their dream but they preferred to worship a worthless idol. How come? What is the sense of that? How come, that despite centuries of evidence to the contrary, and the experience of people through every generation, people treat belief in God as either an absurdity or irrelevant? How come people enjoy the fruits of this Good-given earth, but refuse to acknowledge the One whose personality is stamped all over it?
The judgment as illustrated by the parable is not that God judges us, but that we judge ourselves in our choices – especially our choice to reject the gracious invitation offered to us without condition. In the parable, the invitation is made not to a dirge, but to a banquet! But people go to extraordinary lengths to avoid the party. Business commitments take priority – for some reason there was urgent work to be carried out. In another place the servants were seized and beaten or killed – the king’s generosity was mocked by the people’s choice for the alternative.
The invited guests do not deserve to come, says the king (after behaving rather like an American President we know and sending in the marines and their firepower!). Go to the street corners, find everyone, and gather in the good and the bad alike. Tell everyone you meet to come to the banquet.
This is what we are like [with thanks to Robert Capon Parables of Judgment p127f]: We have saved up several thousand dollars of hard-earned cash and proceed to the car yard to buy a car that runs smoothly, starts in the morning and doesn’t blow out copious amounts of blue smoke in the faces of the cyclists and pedestrians we pass on the way to work. But alas, the trip down to the car yard proves disappointing – for the cars were either beyond the price-range, or in a similar state to the old tired Honda Civic we are trying to trade in as part of the deal. But, just as we are about to give up and go away to work out how we can raise the extra cash, the salesman comes up to us with a smile on his face. Do you really want a car? He whispers into our ear. Come around to the back of the yard, have I got a deal for you! And behind the building is a brand new Porsche! It’s yours, free, says the salesman with a twinkle in his eye. Take it because the boss likes you and wants you to have it. Here are the keys. Many are called. There is not anyone in the world, good, bad, or in-between, who isn’t walked around the back of the yard by the divine salesman and offered heaven for nothing. But few are chosen, because do you know what most of us do? We think we are being had on. If we lived in the United States we might think we are on Candid Camera and look around for the hidden camera. Then, before we sit in the leather-clad seat and turn on the ignition to listen to the engine purr, we get suspicious. We walk around the car looking at it. We kick the tyres, slam the doors, test the shock-absorbers, and look for rust. There must be rust, otherwise why is the car being given away? And then, even if we take it for a ride (and why not take it for a ride, if it turns out to be a con, at least we might as well have the free ride!) – even if we take it for a ride we take it to a person in the motor-trade who we trust (I know that it is next to impossible to find someone we trust in the motor-trade, but just bear with me for the sake of the story, OK!) – we take it to someone we trust and ask her to check it out to see whether it has been involved in a major accident or miraculously patched up. Then, we ring up the stolen car hotline to check if the car is hot or not (it is a Porsche, and any Porsche is hot if you know what I mean). If after that we come around to accepting that this is the real deal, we then start worrying. We worry about the warrant of fitness, the cost of insurance and then, God help us, we catch ourselves fuming because our not so good and not so deserving neighbour was offered a Rolls Royce while we only got a Porsche! Many are called, few are chosen.
What is it that goes on in us that we reject God’s gracious overture of love? We are made to live in harmony with God – centuries of human experience have led us to understand that we have a huge spiritual capacity – we have grown to understand that what we call our souls, are receptacles of God’s love. We can not only believe in God, but also experience God, and live in tune with God. Why then do most people avoid the spiritual dimension in their lives – God created us for relationship with him – life is not meant to be apart from him – why do we reject God? The extent of God’s desire that we relate to him is reflected in the incarnation of Jesus Christ among us. Jesus came to reconcile us with the Father – to restore the relationship we were always meant to enjoy with God – even to the point of death on the cross. This is how much God loves us, that he sent his only son that whoever believes in him shall not die but experience eternal life – a closer relationship with the Creator forever (in other words – a kings banquet!). But what do we do? We reject the invitation. And even those who accept it still when you dig around a bit seem to continually holding God at arms length. We trust in our won ability – we treat the things in life as if they are only for ourselves. We build up riches on earth, despite our knowledge that we cannot take anything with us when we die. We hardly ever pray, and when we do it is for what we can get rather than for what we can give. We clutter and fill the reservoirs of spiritual capacity that God has given us with temporal things – distractions – things that cannot possibly save us. We put all sorts of barriers in the way of accepting the invitation and bring judgment upon ourselves. Why? Why do we do this? Many are called, few are chosen.
The spiritual writer, Henri Nouwen presents the image of a tightly clenched fist as being an illustration of the way we are towards God. We think it is easier to hold back and keep our distance and keep things to ourselves. The opposite of the clenched fist is the open hand. God invites us to his banquet, with open hand. We can hold back and reject the invitation (clenched fist) or accept and trust what is being offered (open hand). It is not easy to open the hand. Why do it anyway? Relationships at the best of times are risky – and even more so if the hand is open and there is nothing held back. Relationship with God is risky. The language of relating to God is prayer. Prayer is risky. Nouwen says prayer is risky because it demands a relationship in which you allow the Other to enter into the very centre of your person. Prayer is allowing God to speak there, allowing God to touch the sensitive core of your being, and allowing God to see so much that you would rather leave in the darkness. And so you really want to do that? That’s why so many avoid God. We resist God. We ignore God’s call to relationship – we prefer to go it alone – even if we acknowledge God we prefer to have God on our terns, in our tightly closed hand. But Jesus warns us of the perils of ignoring God. We are called – there is a response to make. We are called to open our hands to receive what God offers us in Jesus Christ. There is nothing to fear, God not only comes in love so that we may live in harmony with him, but by His Spirit he gives us the capacity to open our hands. This is our purpose – many are called – our yes to his call is pour acceptance of God having chosen us – what do you say?
Sunday 16 October (Pentecost 22)
Exodus 33:12-23, Ps 99, 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10, Matthew 22:15-22
Matthew 22:15-22 Give to God what belongs to God
It is three years since the first Bali bombing. What a lot has gone on in the world since that day and the Twin Towers bombings of the year before! Events in the world – tsunami, suicide bombings, hurricanes, all serve to remind us of life’s precariousness and preciousness.
When I was 18 at the St Paul ’s Church fair in Timaru, a few of the parents began a cricket game on the lawn – my Phys Ed teacher from high school was one of the parents. He had been a NZ representative opening batsman, I thought it might be a good idea to join in the game and have a bowl at him and see if I could get him out. I can’t remember bowling at him, I think the children did the batting. Murray Parker had a three year old son who had just got his first cricket bat – it was too huge for the wee boy but he enjoyed his innings and got a few hits in. The boy’s name was Mark – he died in the bomb blast in Bali . I wrote to his parents – I struggled with what to say. What words can get near to them in the loss of their oldest child and the loss his and their future with him and the family he would have had? In the end I wrote something about how no one in the world can take away the gift that he was to them.
When you actually know people affected by one of these world crises the perspective changes – it ceases to be something out there – the images become personal. The other day I was driving through the city and a car swerved too near – what if I had been a moment later in my car – would I have been hit? How big is the gap between life and death, a second or two – a split second? What was it that made Mark Parker choose to go to Bali on that day and be in that night club at that particular hour? What combinations of split seconds were involved in the decisions of all of the people killed and maimed to be at that place and that time? I drove on – a bit jittery and aware that there have been hundreds of times in my life where there have been close calls. I drove on profoundly thankful to God for the gift of life – such a precarious enterprise! Such a precious gift!
We are such vulnerable creatures aren’t we? That we even exist at all is amazing to contemplate. Think of all the combinations of men and women through hundreds of generations that resulted in your existence – people who survived wars and plagues, difficult child-births and near misses. And out of those combinations you appear – the result of only one of millions of tiny sperm fertilizing one particular egg in one particular moment in time, yet how often we treat life flippantly as if it revolves around us.
What a gift life is! The Gospel for today is headed in my Bible ‘Paying Taxes.’ I think it is about a whole lot more than that. We are told by Matthew that a group of Pharisees got together and planned how they could trick Jesus into saying something wrong – if they could catch him out they could discredit him and he would be less of a threat to them. How sad that they couldn’t see the gift he was to them! They sent some of their followers to do the dirty work – followers schooled to manipulate Jesus with a slimy introduction: “Teacher, we know that you are honest. You teach the truth about what God wants people to do. And you treat everyone with the same respect, no matter who they are. Tell us what you think, should we pay taxes to the emperor or not?”
It is a crafty question all right. If Jesus says ‘yes’ he is seen as a Roman sympathizer and an enemy of his people – but if he says no, he could be accused of working to subvert the Romans.
“Let me see one of the coins used for paying taxes,” he replied. They brought him a silver coin and he asked, “Whose picture and name are on it?”
“The Emperor’s,” they answered. Then Jesus told them, “Give the Emperor what belongs to him and give God what belongs to God.” Matthew tells us that they walked away surprised.
As is often the case with Jesus, there is a twist in the tail. His statement to them was more than what it first appeared. It looks simple enough, give the emperor his money and give to God what belongs to God. But can these kinds of separations be so easily made? Are there any aspects of our lives that we can hold separate from God, claiming that they belong to us alone? What in life is not a gift from God?
One of the areas of life we often treat separately is money. It is ours. We might give some of it away – indeed, many among us treat the Scriptures seriously and give away a tithe of 10% to the church and Christian organisations. Does that mean that the rest of the money is ours to do whatever we like with? The Scriptures venture the view that all of life is a gift. We are urged to consider what we do with all that God has given us. We may give 10% or more away, but what we do with the rest of the 100% that God has given us is of interest to God!
What does it mean to give to God what belongs to God when all of life is a gift from God? That’s the twist in the tale that left the people testing Jesus surprised and speechless. Even all that the emperor has is God-given!
What ways might we live in order to give to God what belongs to God? I guess our response is to do the best we can to nurture the things we have been given
- to nurture the life God has given us,
- to nurture the children sent to try us (I mean sent to enliven us!),
- to nurture the church we are a called to be part of,
- to care for the neighbours about us, the community we live in, our city, nation, the world and this precious earth.
Marva Dawn asks if we knew what the focal concern for Christians was. She makes the point that we tend to put the best of our energy into our focal concern – but so often our primary energy is self-centred, not Gospel-centred.
What is the focal concern for Christians? Marva Dawn reminds us that it is our vocation to love God and neighbour. Loving God and neighbour – is our way of giving to God what belongs to God.
Why do we serve in the church? In order to love God and neighbour. Why do we care for the earth? In order to love God and neighbour. Our occupation might be to dig ditches, lecture in microbiology, teach English as a second language, or care for a child, but our vocation as Christians is to love God and neighbour. Our call is to give to God what belongs to God.
How do we practice this high calling? In what ways does this calling provide a focus for our energies? In what ways does our energy and activity recognise the precious gifts that God has given us? In what ways does the investment of our time, energy and resources betray our focusing on the things that are not so important?
A Prayer: God our Father. We, your people, express our gratitude for all that you have given us. Jesus has shown us that everything comes from you, nothing is separate from you, and that we are called into the partnership of your ministry of love to the world. By your Spirit, sharpen our focus on what matters, release in us your joy in life, and strengthen us to serve both you and our neighbours in all we do, in Jesus name we ask it. Amen.
Sunday 23 October (Pentecost 23)
Deuteronomy 34:1-12, Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17, 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8, Matthew 22:34-46
1 Thessalonians 2:1-8 Hold me to the truth
Paul makes some interesting comments in his message to the Thessalonian Church . He speaks more personally here than he usually does. Paul notes the difficulties he had when he came under attack for speaking the message and he writes of his method of leadership, nothing flattering, no pretence, and no putting one over people. Nor was he in it for his own gain. His motives were to be as faithful to God as he could be. He talks of his style of leadership with them – not harsh, but gentle like a nursemaid. Nurturing the buds of faith in the people like a mother feeds a child what it needs, rather than dominating and intimidating them.
Paul talks of his caring concern for them. It is clear in the reading that Paul has a deep respect and love for them. He is writing to them as their pastor, their minister and their friend. We cared so much for you, he writes, and you became so dear to us, that we were willing to give our lives for you when we gave you God’s message. I can understand why he puts things in the way he does. As your minister, I have got very attached to you. I know that I could be a better minister than I am, and by now you will know that there are areas of my work that I could improve on! But I can also say this – I am a better minister because I am your minister – you help me be better.
But in a way that you might not fully understand, this church and you people are at the centre of my life. There is hardly a waking hour that I am not mindful of this church and its people in some way or another. Sometimes I wish I could switch you off, but there is usually something happening to get me thinking, and there are always areas of my work that I am struggling with and they weigh upon me. I am not complaining though, it is a great privilege to be your minister, and while at times I wonder what it would be like to have a job that I can leave at 5 o’clock and ignore until 8 in the morning, I’m happy enough in what I am doing.
The hardest part of my job is telling the truth. Each week I have to meet the challenge of preaching from the Bible and each week I fail to live up to what I preach. That’s why I have put the prayer of confession after the sermon this week. I will preach today, and I know I will not hold to the truth in the week to come. I need to confess that to God and you. Maybe you struggle with the same thing.
I wonder how many times I have put you wrong as we wrestle with the Scriptures. Do you wonder too? How may times am I guilty of rescuing the truth of God to something that you might like more, or won’t be offended by?
And then I wonder how many times do I fit the Gospel into something that makes me feel comfortable/ One of my fears is that in trying to be straight up, you will simply stop coming along. I wonder how many times I have given in to the temptation to be nice.
Paul in his Thessalonian letter had me thinking about what it means to be a minister, but Robert Capon provoked me even further in his book The Foolishness of Preaching. Here’s what he says, Preachers tells us the wrong story entirely. They avoid the dark centre of the Gospel. They can’t bring themselves to come within a country mile of the horrendous truth that we are saved in our deaths, not by our efforts to lead a good life. Instead preachers mouth the canned recipes for successful living they think their congregations want to hear.
Maybe I do that. Maybe I preach in order to stroke your egos. Maybe I make light of things so that you will be entertained enough and not bored or put off by the heavy message of the Gospel, so that you might then want to come along next week! This is the sinister underbelly in being the church in the kind of age we are in – that if we don’t like church, if it isn’t entertaining enough, we can simply move on. How many people preach in such a way as to avoid giving offence?
Paul told the Thessalonians that he didn’t try to fool or trick anyone… We didn’t speak to please people, he writes, but to please God who knows our motives.
What kind of preacher do I want to be? I could be like Robert Schuler, who used to beam across the world from his Crystal Cathedral each Sunday on the Hour of Power programme. He fills his services with feel good- ego-stroking messages.
I think that Father Capon might have had someone like Robert Schuler in mind when he made the comment about preachers who mouth the canned recipes for successful living that they think their congregations want to hear.
No hidden motives , says Paul. No trying to fool people or trick them with an ago-stroking message. No faltering!
Robert Capon offers two different versions of a story to illustrate what he thinks is the foolishness of the message of the Gospel, and the truth we preachers tend to avoid like the plague, as we work hard to stroke people’s egos.
It is a story about a lifeguard. The lifeguard is the Christ-figure in the story. The surf has become dangerous and the lifeguard is busy ordering people out of the water. He puts up a no swimming sign, and while people in the crowd complain a little, they soon settle down for some good-natured sunbathing and picnicking. Suddenly though, one of them spots a teenage girl waving frantically a hundred yards off the shore. What does the lifeguard do? We all know what we would want him to do, and I the first version he performs wonderfully. He scrambles down from his tower, runs in Baywatch slow motion, his biceps bulging, and the only movement in his abdomen is the sway of his finely-toned muscles – you get the picture. He swims out to the girl, tows her back to the beach, gives her CPR and she revives to the cheer of the crowd. Later of course there are some important object lessons to be taken from what occurred. She broke the rules, people like her are lucky they don’t get what they deserve, don’t play chicken with the forces of nature etc etc. Capon then asks, is this crowd-pleasing scenario of salvation in any way relevant to that the Gospel says God has done for us in Jesus Christ? Is what Jesus does for us like some sort of magic wand that will make our lives better and free us from tragedy? Can he be reduced in to a sort of comic hero, who, like Superman, does good deeds for people?
In the second scenario, Capon offers what he thinks is the real Jesus way. The story goes as before. The lifeguard closes the beach; someone spots the girl in trouble, the lifeguard dives into the water and swims out to the struggling girl. He gets to her but then he disappears under the water. He doesn’t come up. Then the girl goes under the water and she doesn’t come up. Both of them have drowned. The people make various comments. Oh no! It’s horrible, I don’t believe this. How can God stand by and let people die like that? Later someone spots a note on the clipboard in the lifeguards’ room, the note reads: It’s all okay. Trust me, she’s safe in my death.
Do you see what is wrong with the Jesus of the first scenario (the made for TV Jesus?) This Jesus is the “It’s alright, everything will be better Jesus.’ This is the fairytale Jesus that a lot of people believe in until something goes terribly wrong in their lives and he doesn’t measure up anymore. Sure, in the first scenario, the girl is delivered from death by drowning on a sunny Saturday afternoon. But is this really salvation? She may have been saved that day and that does not mean that she is delivered from the rest of a lifetime of failed romances, dead-end marriages, abusive men, cancer, migraines, arthritis or her own natural death on a cloudy day a week after her eighty-first birthday. Her rescue is not a lasting salvation, it has no lasting importance. She might have a deeper respect for life, but the rest of the crowd just carry on being the same old people they always were. Nothing changes for them in the successful rescue either. But the second scenario is lasting. We know that we are faced with that is a cruel reality for us all – death. Sooner or later we have to meet it, whether we face up to it or not, it will meet us. The lifeguard himself meets it – empty dark death at the hand of forces larger than himself. The lasting hope in the story, though, is the content of the clip[board. On it are words that are signs for us, like the empty tomb is also a sign. ‘She’s safe in my death’ means that the job of salvation has already been done for us in Jesus Christ. It is lasting, for her and for those who are left with the note on the clipboard. The ‘and she lived happily ever after’, (or eternal life) has arrived in the foolishness of Christ crucified, rather than in her being given a new chance to get her life in order, so as to prove herself worthy of the lifeguard’s rescue.
Get the message simple and straight, says Paul. Don’t speak to please the people. Be like a mother nursing her baby, giving the people what is really good for them.
Robert Capon is typically more earthy “…the most wonderful thing about the truth of the second scenario is the way it delivers you the preacher from having to spout uplifting hokum from the pulpit. No useless programs of life improvement need ever pass your lips; no empty threats about what will happen to your people if they don’t improve will ever insult their intelligence, or yours. You won’t have to tell them that love will make their lives soar upward like eagles, if they’ll only work harder at it. That’s a lie.
You won’t have to warn them that their must stop sinning in order for God to like them. That’s another lie. In their death, by Jesus’ death, their sins are no problem for the God who has taken a way the handwriting that was against them and nailed it to the cross.” (Colossians 2:14).
Forget everything but Jesus Christ and him crucified, writes Paul in his first Corinthian letter. We are to trust his death, and not in our goodness, our worthiness or our ability to prove something to God. This is the Gospel in a nutshell.
I will try as your pastor to live by this truth and be as good a minister as I can be – and I ask that you help me and hold me to nothing less than this!
Sunday 30 October (Pentecost 24)
Joshua 3:7-17, Psalm 107:1-7, 33-37, 1 Thessalonians 2:9-13, Matthew 23:1-12
Matthew 23:1-12 Servanthood & Weakness
“The greatest among you will be your servant.” So said Jesus in the middle of what was a massive attack on the Pharisees and Scribes. Jesus looked at the religious teachers of his day and saw that their actions differed from their words. Instead of faith setting people free they created a religion that tied heavy burdens around people’s necks – they liked their deeds to be seen by others, they enjoyed the place of honour at banquets, they sat in the best seats in the synagogues, and by their actions they locked people out of the kingdom of heaven. Golly, it sounds like what happens in a gathering of Presbyterian ministers!
Rank, prestige, prominence, and power – these are not what the followers of Jesus should seek for – Jesus turns the powers on their heads – the greatest among you will be your servant. The leaders in the church should be the church’s servants.
I’m becoming increasingly uneasy about the models of church leadership that are being acclaimed these days – the rise of the celebrity pastor – who is deemed a failure if he doesn’t exert enough power and if the church doesn’t grow in a certain way. If we need a model of how to be as followers of Jesus we need look no further than Jesus himself. Paul describes how Jesus modelled leadership in chapter two of his letter to the Philippians. “…though Jesus was in the form of God did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on the cross.”
Has anyone else ever made a more enduring impact made on the world than our humble servant Lord? The enduring image of Jesus is of a man with no place to rest his head who responded to the needs of anyone around him, and who, in his last hours modelled how his church was to be in the world as he washed his disciple’s feet. Jesus used weakness as strength. One of the significant leaders of last century, Mahatma Ghandi modelled his leadership on the Jesus of the Gospels. When he arrived in India after being expelled from South Africa – the people were expecting the appearance of a great man, dressed in fine clothes, a man with authority – but out walked Ghandi dressed in the attire of the lowest servant.
The problem with the Pharisees and Scribes was that they mistook the respect they received in their position as something offered to them rather than being offered to the God they served. Their vocation went to their heads, they basked in the prestige and they welcomed the opportunity to be indulged. And they turned their power against the people they were meant to serve – demanding more and more of them. Religion became a millstone around the necks of everyone except the Pharisees and Scribes, who enjoyed the power. How easy for any of us to lose our way.
What would it mean for us as a church to operate out of weakness rather than strength? Stanley Haurewas, an American leader in the area of Christian ethics and the role of the church in society, believes that the New Zealand churches have something to offer the rest of the world because of their unique position in the world. The churches in New Zealand have never really had widespread societal support. Apart from a 15-20 year period in the 50’s and 60’s, the church has never enjoyed the kind of support and influence that many other countries in the world have. Now, when many Western countries are facing huge declines in church attendance and influence, they are struggling as to how to manage their loss of power and privilege. Haurewas says that they should look to the church in New Zealand , a church that knows how to survive without widespread societal support. A church that has learned to operate out of weakness might have something unique to offer the world. Yet how often we New Zealanders think we are inferior and we show this by trying to emulate anything that seems to have worked overseas.
Maybe operating out of weakness is something the church should always have strived for. There’s an interesting word in the New Testament that is rarely used, with one form of it used only once. The Greek word is skene – it means to live in, to camp at, or to tent among. Sometimes it is translated as to dwell in, other times, to tabernacle among.
It is used in the prologue to John’s Gospel, where in verse 14 John pulls together all of the Old Testament ideas of God dwelling with his people with the profound climax: ‘the word of God dwelt among us.’ However God might have tabernacled with his people in the past, with Jesus Christ, God has dwelt with us in person. Skene in this reference is used in the past tense. In Jesus Christ, the Word has dwelt among us.
In the book of Revelation Chapter 21:3, the word is used again: “And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying “See the home (tabernacle) of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes .. . ” and so on. In this case, the use of the word is in the future tense. “He will dwell with them as their God .
Only once is the word skene used in the present tense. Only once is this word used to describe God tenting with his people in an ongoing way between the past and the future. (The time we happen to be in!) T his occurs in 2 Corinthians12:9 . Its context is very interesting indeed.
Paul is writing to the Corinthians about his own personal struggles with what he describes as his thorn in the flesh – ‘ a messenger from Satan to torment him ’ . “ Three times, ” writes Paul, “ I appealed to the Lord about this; that it would leave me, but he said to me, ‘ my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. ’ ”
And then comes the use of the word skene. “So I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses,” Paul continues, “so that the power of Christ may tent in me.” The Greek word used describes what is happening now.
Paul discovers that Christ dwells with him not in his power but in his weakness. Does this mean that God can only really tent with his people when they are weak? Maybe! In The Message translation of the beatitudes in Matthew 5, Eugene Peterson offers an interesting version of ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit’. He translates it as, “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.”
[Marva Dawn has identified and elaborated on the interesting use of the word skene in 2 Corinthians in her wonderful book Powers, Weakness & the Tabernacling of God. In a seminar I attended, she described what happens when we operate from weakness in relation to preaching, she reckons that someone has to die when the Word preached, the Word or the preacher!] Any time that the church has operated from a position of power it has got itself into trouble. It has been compromised by its collusion with the state – it has been blamed for wars, political strife and terrible hardship. When the church is too powerful the Gospel is too easily compromised, it becomes a burdensome religion and people are not set free. Christendom is the prime example – it lasted for 1500 to many years – Christendom is ‘Christendumb’ according to Marva Dawn.
How does God tabernacle among us? God tents with a wandering people in the Sinai desert. God tents with a king – a shepherd boy who was plucked from the land. God tents with a deflated people in exile. God tents in the womb of an insignificant peasant girl from Nazareth . God tents with us in the person of a wandering teacher who had no where to rest his head and who was shamed on a Roman cross. God tents with a band of disciples who had fled from their Lord when he was arrested, and who were hiding in an upper room in fear of their lives. God tents in a Pharisee named Saul whose calling had been to persecute the church. God tents in our little remnant church of a few hundred (on a very good day), surrounded by our neighbours who are seriously distracted, mostly indifferent, and sometimes hostile.
How does God tent with us? In weakness! In our weakness there is room for God’s power. How are you going at getting less of you and more of God?
Sunday 6 November (Pentecost 25)
Joshua 24:1-3a, 14-25, Psalm 78:1-7, 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18, Matthew 25:1-13
Matthew 25:1-13 The Ten Bridesmaids
Whatever you might think hell is like, I can think of something much worse! Arriving at heaven’s door and having the door shut in your face with the words ‘I don’t know you’ echoing around. Or maybe that is what hell is. Today’s parable is not all that pleasant is it? It begins nicely enough, with an invitation to a wedding party and ten girls all dolled up and waiting. There are echoes of other party parables, such as the party the father threw for his returned son and the gracious invitation to all and sundry to come to another wedding banquet. But this parable is different from them. It is a parable of judgement – actually it is the first of three judgement parables in Matthew 25 that I am going to be focusing on over the next three weeks.
Before we look at these parables of judgement and today’s one in particular I want to make a few comments about how we are to approach these teachings. There is a real risk in interpreting these judgement parables in a one dimensional way. The context of these parables can inform us of why they are told and why Matthew includes them in his Gospel (Luke only includes one, Mark and John don’t include any!). But more importantly, these parables should not be interpreted as if they are God’s only word to us. The Scriptures as a whole must inform our interpretation of any particular scripture. One of the reasons that most churches require that their preachers have undergone lengthy training is to ensure that the interpretation takes into account all the dimensions of the Bible and what the church has learnt through its history.
On many occasions I’ve experienced one dimensional interpretations of the apocalyptic teachings of Matthew 24 and the judgements of Matthew 25. Preachers have used fear as a weapon to illicit a faith response from people. They have interpreted these texts as if Jesus by dying on the cross has not saved us from the power of sin, as if through his resurrection he has not saved us from the powers of darkness, and as if the victory of Christ is somehow rendered ineffective by our indecision. In other words there has been a total absence of grace, and God is depicted as a vengeful ogre.
Well of course this is not true. God, as the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments attest, loves us with a love that is broad and deep. God’s love draws out the best in us and forgives the worst in us. God is our Father – we are God’s children, our Father in heaven has loved the world so much that he gave his only Son – God’s love wills our yes. How dare we think that we can talk about the judgement of God in any other language but the language of God’s love, mercy and grace as we know it through Jesus Christ!
It is because of this that I suggest some caution when reading some of the novels in some of our church libraries – the ones by Frank Peretti and Tim LaHaye. While these novels are quite popular and the ideas for them are based on some scriptures, there is widespread critique of these books on theological grounds. In them the grace of God is often portrayed as conditional and limited. Reading them has left many people gripped in fear and we know that if something is of God, its fruit is peace and joy and hope – not fear! These are books that should have a restricted rating on them – for mature audiences only!
I recall as a young person attending a ghastly film called Thief in the Night. I was genuinely scared by it. After the screening the speaker looked at all of us in the eye and said that any one of us could be knocked over by a car and killed on our way home - we should put ourselves right with God now just in case our time is up. This method of frightening people into the faith still has its advocates. “Come forward and give your life to the Lord before it’s too late,” said the man. When none of us went up he began applying the pressure. “I know that there is one of you here today who has heard the Lord speak through this film. Your heart is afraid, come up and be saved.” No one went up. But on he went – he was determined! “You had better come forward; this night may be your last. Do you want to live in hell for eternity?” All we wanted to do was to make it home – we were genuinely afraid.
Now don’t get me wrong, many Scriptures prompt us to treat the matter of our salvation with some urgency – but in my experience, what has truly converted people and given them a faith of enduring substance has been an encounter with the God who loves them. The realisation and experience of God’s love is the basis of a lasting faith. Some may come to faith through fear but most people don’t. The experience of God’s ongoing mercy despite our shortcomings is what keeps us hopeful and faithful. This is grace, not fear. Look at how we nurture children. If children live in fear they struggle to trust and to love. Love sets people free, fear binds people up. I know I’ve gone on a bit, but our theological and doctrinal under-girding is important. We cannot read these parables any other way but theologically – they are part, and only part, of the whole. While they inform the whole they are not the whole. We are to read these parables of judgement alongside the other parables like that of the Lost Son: where we see the gracious love of God being like a Father dying to himself in order to let his son be free, but also willing his lost son home. And when his son returns, the father throws a party that offends the older son and I daresay everyone in the neighbourhood as well. We cannot separate off the God of each parable – we have to hold the two opposites in tension. The language of Judgement has to reckon with the language of Grace.
Far too often I witness ungracious judgement – usually from people who have too easily forgotten the mercy offered to them. I knew of a businessman up north when I was young, an elder in his church, whose business went under. The collapse of his business put a lot of smaller operators out of business as well, many people were bitter. Through a variety of circumstances the man managed to salvage enough to start again. He received help and mercy from the community. The man’s new business prospered. This man did some good things in the church and the community. But I heard that he continued to treat his employees harshly. The manner in which he dealt with anyone who didn’t measure up was brutal. While it was probably clear to everyone around him what his expectations of them were, in my mind the way he operated was utterly devoid of grace. What I don’t think this man considered was that in his actions the church was on show. He was not only an elder at church, but at home and at work and in the clubs he attended. One of his workers said to me that he heard some of the guys talking about it and one of them said if this is how a follower of Jesus treats his workers, then who wants to follow Jesus?
The context of Matthew’s Gospel is the fall of Jerusalem in 70AD. Scholars believe that Matthew was writing to the church of Jerusalem at the time their world was collapsing around them. What was remembered in such a context was the promises Jesus made to his people about the future reign of God. People of faith were not to be distressed by the strife about them – the kingdom of Christ was coming! The present is to be understood by what has been and what will yet be. What is important for the people living in the in-between is that they know who they serve. This time of testing is the time to draw on the riches that have been given to them by Christ. This is the time to sharpen up – to be prepared for when the great day comes. The sign of hope Matthew places before his readers is Jesus’ own suffering – the parables of Chapter 25 are the last teachings before Jesus’ own suffering. Jesus prevailed even though he suffered, and so will they. It is important for us to reckon with this ‘sharpen up’ teaching. Not because we are frightened and our fear makes us say the right thing as a kind of insurance (God is not to be bargained with!) Rather we sharpen up because we know that the day is coming when the kingdom that is coming will come – and then we will want to recognise God’s voice, and God will want to recognise ours. We are called to live in a state of readiness. Not in fear, nor under a threatening cloud, and not in doubt of God’s mercy either. We are called to live now as people prepared for the kingdom that is moving towards history and history is moving towards. And how daft to come to that great day so ill-prepared that God has to declare that he doesn’t even know us! What a waste our lives would have been! So listen as he calls and choose today who you will serve!
Sunday 13 November (Pentecost 26)
Judges 4:1-7, Psalm 123, 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11, Matthew 25:14-30
Matthew 25:14-30 Judgement Parables II: The Talents
At first glance, one of the things that is characteristic of the three judgement parables of Matthew 25 is that they appear to be primarily about judgements on people’s actions. Five bridesmaids aren’t as well prepared as others, a servant doesn’t multiply the money of the master and the goats of next week’s parable didn’t look out for people in need. Because of these common characteristics it might look as if our actions and works are the things that determine whether we are welcome into the kingdom of heaven at the end of time. Is this so? Can we engineer our salvation by making sure we do enough good works? Can we bargain with God in order to put ourselves right with him? Do we give of ourselves to God and to others in order to get something for ourselves? Is that really what we understand giving to be about? What I really love is hearing that someone has made a donation for something and few if any ever find out who the donor is. What’s in it for the donor when they give something away in this way? They don’t get any recognition. There is no obvious reward except the satisfaction that they have done something good with their resources. What they probably have to endure is the judgements of the people who criticise them thinking that they never seem to share from their abundance.
I know of a wealthy person in another city who has funded a youth worker position in the local church he attends. Only a few people in the church know where the money comes from – the donor wanted it that way. In the past when his family had been in need, the church provided them with food and clothing. The man was now in a situation to give something in return. He chose to do it without fanfare. The ones whose motives become questionable are those who get their names in the newspapers, or who get something named after them because of their generosity. What is their real motive in giving? The reality is that the person’s giving has probably been from out of their sizeable surplus – it hasn’t really been all that costly. Sure they may have sacrificed purchasing a house at Wanaka, but the houses in Queenstown and Noosa are still functional! Do we give of ourselves to God and to others in order to get something for ourselves? Do we do it to secure the good wishes of others or to secure our salvation? Is there anything we can do to put ourselves right with God?
At first glance these parables of judgement suggest that there are things we can do to tilt the scales in our favour. Take extra oil for the lamp. Maximise the returns on the money left in our care. Visit the imprisoned, feed the hungry and clothe the naked. Do these things and you earn the favour of God – they look good on your spiritual CV, things like these ensure that your name is above the cut-off mark between pass and fail; they guarantee you a seat on the heavenly train. Or, is it while we are still sinners that Jesus died for us and by his actions alone we are reconciled to God? Sola gratia – grace alone, says Martin Luther. We are saved not by our works but by grace alone. We have to approach these parables with our theological lenses on. They can be dangerous salvation-by-works texts otherwise!
Jesus has justified us before God. Jesus has reconciled us to the father. Jesus has atoned for our sins so that there is no barrier between us and the Father. The parable shows us that there is only one way that we can get ourselves into permanent trouble with God, and that is to refuse what has been freely offered to us in Christ – to bury what he has given us in the garden. The old story of heaven being for the good guys and hell for the bad guys is dead wrong. Heaven is populated entirely by forgiven sinners, not spiritual or moral giants. And hell is also populated by forgiven sinners. The only difference is that those in heaven have accepted all that God has given them, and those in hell continue to reject it. I guess that is what hell is – a place for those who refuse to come to the party that God has bid us to come and enjoy! Traditionally the parable of the talents has been used as a platform to get people to slave away to maximise the talents that have been given to them. It went something like this…
Those who do make something of their talents are to be commended – come on in and share the happiness God has promised you, my good and faithful servants! And it follows that those who have made something of their talents cannot help but look down their noses at those who haven’t made the best of theirs. Look at those people without work we say, how long do they think they should be bludging off the state, why don’t they at least grow a garden to make the best of their circumstances? It wouldn’t take much to develop that talent! And we find ourselves in agreement with the master’s pronouncement: “You are a worthless servant and you will be thrown out into the dark where people weep and gnash their teeth. If you come from the perspective that people can earn their way into heaven by what they do or don’t do, then that is the logical way to interpret the parable. But I say that that is not how the Gospel works. It is not what Jesus intended when he told the parable. And this is particularly so with next week’s sheep and goats parable (but let me not get ahead of myself!).
You see, a talent as Jesus described it is not a quality in the way that we use the word; a talent was an amount of money – a quantity! A talent in Jesus’ time was worth about 15 years wages for a labourer. The parable is about what we do with the quantity of faith and trust given to us. We have been given the gift of life and the capacity to know Jesus and live in relationship with him.
God hands this to us on a plate, in the same way that the money is handed out the servants on a plate. The question that the parable raises is not whether we maximise the gifts and talents given to us in order to earn God’s favour, rather it focuses on how we respond to God’s call to live faithfully with him. One of the servants chose to bury the God-given right to enjoy fullness of life in the backyard of his life – that is the tragedy of this parable. The servant chose to reject the faith placed in him. Maybe he did it out of fear. Fear that the master would be displeased with him if he took a risk and came out with less. Fear like the old-style religion where if you make a mistake you are in trouble and you have to do penance in order to remove the stain from the copybook. Maybe the fear was that he wasn’t really willing to accept all that being faithful to the master meant and demanded. He may have been so caught up in things that suited him nicely in his life that he chose to place the seeds of faith, that he had felt at different times in his life, out in the backyard. This spiritual stuff has its place, he might have said to himself, but it shouldn’t get in the way of getting on and making progress. I am busy now with other things – my work is important. Or she might have said, I’m far too busy to bother with church and all that, anyway my kitchen needs a makeover and I do rather like that kitchen on page 34 of this month’s House & Garden. “But darling,” her equally busy husband says at tea time, “the kitchen we have is only two and a half years old!” “Richard, don’t judge me,” she replies, “the BMW that you want to replace with that new Rover is only two years old as well!” Fair’s fair darling! Oh dear, life is so complicated – they both say, I’ll leave that spiritual stuff until another time. But when is another time? We don’t have an unlimited amount of time do we? The master returns one day. How much longer can we afford to keep all that he has given us buried in the garden?
The parable of the talents is essentially about the nature and consequences of sin. It is not that sin itself will make us unforgivable – Jesus sorted that out, there is nothing we can do that is unforgivable. Sin is more complicated than that. Sin is the rejection of God. A big loud NO to all that God has freely and unconditionally given us. Sin is a rejection of the only life that is real – life with God in Christ. Often we describe sin as doing something we shouldn’t, but really, isn’t sin better described as refusing to do what we should? Sin is a decision to not use what we have been given for its rightful purpose. Sin is a rejection of the life that God has handed out on a plate. The parable challenges us to be like the first two servants. It is not so much that they doubled the master’s money and thereby earned religious brownie points (remember there is no such thing!); it is not so much that they practiced good religion and were recognised as pillars of the church; it is not so much that they were without sin (who is anyway?); no, all that the two servants did was trust in the master’s faith in them. They believed in the belief he had in them and they lived the life he gave them. The condemnation that the third servant suffered was that he rejected the life that was entrusted to him. He buried it in the garden. Maybe he is like people we know who have lived their lives cautiously – no risks. Maybe he is like people we know who dream of what life might be but never get out there and give it a go. Maybe he is like people we know who have received so much and who think that all that they have is for them. In the face of our generously loving and extravagant master, many say a resounding no, when all they had to do was accept what they have been given and at least attempt to live thankfully. Silly people!
Sunday 20 November (Reign of Christ)
Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24, Psalm 100, Ephesians 1:15-23, Matthew 25:31-46
Matthew 25:31-46 Parables of Judgement III: The sheep and the goats
(with particular thanks to Robert Capon for the permission to be so radical!)
Jesus concludes his teaching with the parable of the sheep and the goats. After it there is nothing more to say – there is only something to do. And Jesus does it – he is betrayed, he is arrested, he is denied, he is tried and he is crucified. Given that he had some sense of what was ahead of him, we would have to conclude that Jesus would have very weighty things to say in his last teaching words. Matthew in putting together his Gospel obviously thought so too – the last weighty word was about the sheep and the goats.
I think Jesus got it right with his last teachings, such enduring stories – typically unusual with his liking for the twist in the tail! The last one in particular is the most memorable and provocative, but also delightfully cryptic. He was careful to leave his followers with something they would remember. Who can forget the parable of the sheep and the goats? It is so dramatic and easy to visualise. It is provocative – is there any other parable that shakes us up like this one? I reckon that the parable of the sheep and the goats is one of the three most memorable parables along with the Prodigal Son and Good Samaritan. “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, all the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people from one another as a shepherd separates sheep from the goats…” We don’t forget this one do we!
But while being memorable, it is for me the most cryptic of his parables. It looks simple enough and most of the time it is interpreted at face value. Indeed, the author of one reputable commentary I have on this text suggests that this is not really a parable because it is to be understood straight-forwardly, as a picture of what we can expect things to be like on the day of judgement when God gathers us all together. We will be judged by our actions. The good people will be with God forever, and the bad ones won’t. Simple! End of story! We believe this don’t we? We are offended when good things happen to bad people, but we console ourselves with the thought that at least they cannot escape God’s judgement! God will get them in the end, the parable tells us so! They will reap the rewards for their badness and we will reap the ultimate reward for our goodness. God will square things up. According to the parable, our actions, if they are good, put us right with God. Right? Listen to your theological antennae! Are we saved by our works? No, no no! We are saved by grace alone. What we do doesn’t put us right with God. What puts us right with God is what God does through Jesus Christ.
I think that this parable is more cryptic than obvious – more than that though, I think it is a farce – a deliberate attempt on Jesus’ part to expose the folly of the way we understand the nature of God’s salvation. This farce becomes the precursor to the way our salvation really works. Let me put the case for this somewhat alternative interpretation, and afterwards you work out what you think!
According to the criteria in the parable, who among us would be numbered among the sheep who are blessed? Let’s work this out right now. We will separate off the two sides of the church. On this side I will place all the ones who have always done the right thing. Come you that are blessed by the Father, sit on this side. Inherit the kingdom that has been prepared for you since the dawn of time, for there were people who were hungry, and you shared your food with them. You have given of your resources when there has been a famine in Ethiopia haven’t you? Hands up those who have done that? If your hand hasn’t gone up could you please move over to this side with the goats. Come on move!
I was thirsty and you gave me a drink. Hands up if you have not prayed for the Australians who are really struggling with drought this year. OK, those of you whose hands haven’t gone up on the sheep side, over to the goats you go. Move it!
I was naked and you gave me clothing. That is an awkward one isn’t it? Quite frankly we don’t get a lot of naked people wandering along our streets these days. We’ll leave that one today. What about, I was sick you cared for me. Is there anyone left over on the sheep side who hasn’t cared for a sick relative or friend? Over to the goats you go! I was in prison and you visited me.
Hands up if any of you have ever visited someone in prison. Any on the sheep side can stay where you are. The rest of you move it. If you are on the goat side and you have visited someone in prison, that’s lovely, but obviously you’ve not done something else. Too bad. I’d wish you better luck next time – but there isn’t a next time, we don’t go for that kind of thing around here! Stay right where you are!
Hands up any of you sheep left who have always fed the hungry, always prayed for the Aussies, always visited the imprisoned, always cared for the sick and always clothed the naked? None? Sorry – off you go, go and join the rest. Come on, squeeze up! There’s plenty of room for you all to weep and gnash your teeth together!
Have a look at the criteria by which the Son of Man judges the people in the parable. According to that criteria, who can possibly be among the sheep? All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. The ones who are blessed by the Father didn’t even know that they were doing what pleased him. And those who were cursed were also in the dark. The criteria Jesus suggests for the final judgement is so impossible to attain that it simply cannot be the criteria for salvation at all. In his final parable Jesus has exposed the folly of any who think that their good works are the means by which they are saved.
If our works cannot be the means of our salvation then something else has to be. Someone would have to do something to alter the terms by which we are put right with God. Jesus does that. He is betrayed, he is arrested, he is denied, he is tried and he is crucified. His actions, not ours, are what redeems us. His works in the form of his death in our place are what allow us to be sheep and not goats. The judgement here is what he takes upon himself in order to set us free. There is now no condemnation upon those who are in Christ Jesus. He takes our sins and nails them to the cross.
So what about our actions? What place do they have? Our good actions, feeding the hungry, visiting the imprisoned, caring for the sick, and finding naked people and putting clothes on them – these actions are no longer to be misrepresented as ways of gaining God’s favour, but as witness to and signs of, the amazing fact that we are put right with the Father through the self-sacrifice of Jesus Christ. We do these things as signs of our gratitude for all that God has done for us knowing that these things are what are pleasing to God. Our acts of kindness, our thirst for justice and our choice to live faithfully is our way of giving honour to our Lord who has taken God’s judgement upon himself and buried it forever in the tomb where even death could not constrain the life in him. Life offered to us. We are free. Live freely and live faithfully!